Be My Mitten
by little-morph
Summary: A freezing winter, a draughty castle, and two people searching for warmth and other things.
1. Chapter 1

Hogwarts in December is really not the romantic place one would expect. Roaring fires there might be, but central heating would have been preferable.

The Warming Charm was one of the first any student learned in these frigid halls, only to ensure their survival of the first winter.

During the day people moved in packs, the places in the middle of the throng the most sought after ones. After classes, students were clustered together in their common rooms, where a huge fireplace and the combined body heat made the room the most popular place.

At night, everyone was wearing nightclothes; even the most fashion-oriented girls had taken to wearing garish flannel pyjamas. Warmth was the priority and not being sexy.

If anyone decided to climb into someone else's bed to keep warm, no one said anything, not even if it meant two boys huddling together.

Even teachers had dug out their thermal underwear and their long-johns. McGonagall was actually very fond of her thick, tartan tights.

Even Severus Snape had started wearing long-johns. With a grimace he had retrieved his favourite, or least hated, pair from the back of a drawer, glaring at the black cotton garment with loathing.

At least the colour was bearable, he acknowledged, thinking of the lemony coloured pair Albus had given him a few Christmases ago. Did the Headmaster really think he would let anything on his body that featured dancing frogs?

It didn't matter that no one was able to see them. i_He/i _would know that they were there. And gods forbid he would be summoned to a Death Eater meeting wearing frog-covered underwear.

He was naturally thin, and the lack of body-fat made him notoriously cold. He hated the winter, and he really hated how his skinny legs looked in the tight long-johns.

He couldn't stand the sight of his protruding, knobbly knees for long and wrestled his normal trousers over the unholy garment. He detested how the fabric bunched around his privates and itched to grope his groin to rearrange it.

During breakfast, like many others, he wanted to hug his mug of coffee to him, but he resisted. Barely.

There were two big fireplaces in the Great Hall, but they failed to bring enough heat into the huge room.

A few students could be seen holding their hands over the candles on the tables. Others had started wearing winter hats all day long, especially the younger ones.

No matter how rude it was to be wearing headwear during mealtimes, Severus couldn't fault them, considering his own wish to hide his head under a thick layer of wool.

His thin, stringy hair did nothing to keep his sensitive head warm, and he was routinely plagued by headaches. With envy he glanced at Hagrid, who never looked affected by the low temperatures, his shaggy hair keeping his head and neck as warm as toast.

As usual, Severus drank too much coffee in an attempt to stay warm, which had him all flustered and awfully restless. He spent his classes striding through the rows of students, trying to work out the nervous energy the overload of caffeine had given him. Besides, it kept him warm.

His own classroom was the only one without a fire. Everyone assumed he did it to torture his students, while in truth there had never been one installed in the first place. If there was a way to alter the castle's structure, he would have asked for one, but the magic needed for it had died with the founders.

It took a good two hours before the heat from the cauldrons managed to bring the temperatures up to an almost comfortable feel.

He lectured less during the winter months, preferring to keep the students brewing and the flames under the cauldrons on for as much as possible.

He gratefully sank into his armchair by the fire after classes and pulled a rather threadbare blanket around his frame. With a book in one hand and a glass of firewhisky in the other, he spent most of his free time alone in his chambers.

Xxx

Hermione wasn't a fan of winter. She hated the cold and the many layers one was forced to wear.

When she had been in her first year, she had appealed to the Headmaster to install fireplaces in the dormitories, but he had sent her away with a smile after saying that it was impossible to change the castle's structures.

She had been miffed but didn't dare try to create one in her room either. One shouldn't trifle with Hogwarts' foundations.

So she still slept in her fleece Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas despite being eighteen years old, as they were the warmest thing in her wardrobe. Her feet were still wrapped in two pairs of socks, but she couldn't get her feet warm.

With a sigh, she cast yet another Warming Charm on her frozen toes and tried to fall asleep quickly while her feet were moderately warm. The curtains around her were drawn and supposedly kept the warmth inside. If they did, she couldn't feel it.

She pulled her thick duvet up to her nose and closed her eyes, her hands sandwiched between her legs – and not for pleasurable activities.

The next day was a Friday and Potions the last class of the day. Today's brew only required moderate heat under their cauldrons and the room was only moderately warm, despite the many classes before hers.

Her fingers were cold, and as a last resort she held them over her bubbling potions. Snape was probably going to blow a gasket when he saw, so she tried to be surreptitious about it and look as if she were adding ingredients or stirring.

Carefully, she looked up after a few minutes, only to see his black eyes resting on her. Her hands stilled, guiltily and she attempted an innocent smile that gave her away immediately. After all, she never smiled at him.

She had no idea that he had been watching her poor attempt at subterfuge for a while. She was a lousy actress, at least in front of him.

They stared at each other, and Hermione waited for the point deduction or a scathing comment. Instead he cocked his head, looking quite charming without trying to, and raised his mocking eyebrow.

Hermione's face twisted into a half-amused, half-bemused grimace, and she dared to give him an exaggerated shiver and then shrugged a little helplessly. There was no point in denying what she had been doing.

To her surprise, she saw his lips twitch before they thinned. "Don't forget to… heat up your potion after adding the hemlock," he instructed the class, his eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"Thank you, Professor, I almost forgot," Hermione simpered loudly and quickly lowered her head as every head turned to her after her odd comment.

She heard Snape make some choked and raspy noise in his throat and felt her lips curve upwards. She shook her head, not knowing what to make of this, but soon concentrated on her potion again and pushed Snape from her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

After classes, she went into the library. She still needed to get some studying done. To her dismay, there was no fireplace in Madame Pince's kingdom, the danger to the books being too great, despite protective charms.

The stern librarian was wrapped in a thick, knitted garment that looked like a poncho. It didn't suit her but seemed to keep her warm judging by the relaxed way she strode through the rows of books.

Hermione's teeth chattered as she quickly went to the Restricted Section. She would have preferred to study in the warm and cosy common room, but it was too crowded and noisy to get any studying done.

How the boys could do their essays there was beyond her.

The library was almost deserted, save a few very determined Ravenclaws that studied with the same tenacity as Hermione. Not even a blizzard could keep them from their academic pursuits.

Hermione got comfortable in the very last row, far away from the entrance, and pulled out a fuzzy hat she had knitted herself after checking that no one could see her.

Then she took her shoes off and put a pair of thick, woolly socks on, wriggling her toes with a content sigh. Her shoes did nothing to keep her warm. She wished she could wear some nice boots, but the girl's uniform code made that impossible.

Lastly, she transfigured her Gryffindor scarf back into its original form: a dark-green one that was longer and warmer. Her mum had made it for her and had seen fit to stitch a couple of snakes on it for no apparent reason. This scarf could never be seen by anyone as it would probably be considered treason.

Thus equipped, she opened her first book to start with an assignment. She soon was so engrossed that she forgot everything around her. Constant vigilance had to be abandoned in the face of knowledge.

So it was that she didn't hear the approach of another person. The footsteps were so quiet that she probably would have missed them under normal circumstances, too.

"Interesting scarf, Miss Granger. I presume one of my Slytherins will soon report it missing?"

At the sound of the well-known, deep voice, Hermione inhaled sharply and flung her ink-filled quill away with a shocked and involuntary jerk.

She turned her head, her wide eyes landing on Professor Snape who looked faintly amused, if she read his face correctly.

Her hands were now clutching her chest, trying to stop the frantic beating of her heart. "Sir," she rasped automatically, even though she had nothing to say, unless he would appreciate a few choice words from her.

"Did I startle you?" he asked innocently.

Hermione goggled at the alien timbre of his voice.

She managed a nod and a disbelieving snort. She slowly gathered herself and went in search of her fly-away quill. She had to retrieve it from quite a few feet away, and when she returned, she found Snape bent over her essay.

She studied him as he studied her parchment. He straightened slowly and leisurely perused her attire again, ending on her woolly socks with a smirk.

"Unless you want to talk about my choice of clothing, I'd better get on with things."

"Just hand over the stolen scarf, and I will leave you to your studies."

Indignantly, she fingered the mentioned object. "It's not stolen! My mother made it for me… and also chose the design," she muttered.

He raised his trademark eyebrow, but left it at that.

"Maybe you should ask her to make you matching socks and… a hat," he said, his lips twitching in earnest.

Hermione blushed and fought the urge to rip the ugly thing from her head. She had completely forgotten about it.

"Why yes, I will do just that. I'm sure she could make you some nice long-johns as well," she countered and quickly averted her face as she remembered who she was talking to. Maybe ignoring him would stop him from retaliating?

Unlikely!

"What an enticing offer," he drawled, and she squeaked in answer, keeping her eyes on her parchment. "Alas, I already own a pair."

Hermione turned towards him, her eyes unerringly raking over his lower half, searching for any signs of his under things.

Severus tensed under her scrutiny and cleared his throat. She quickly bent over her work again, keeping absolutely still.

"A pair of socks then?" she offered, her voice still unnaturally high.

"With snakes on them," he said, surprising himself. He quickly walked off, before he got sucked further into this bizarre exchange.

He didn't get far before he noticed that he hadn't grabbed the book he came for. He warred with himself and then turned back to where Miss Granger sat. This time, she looked up at him when he approached. He marched past her to one of the shelves and retrieved the book he came for.

"Any colour wishes?" he heard her ask again, her voice unmistakably amused. He realised she was still talking about the socks.

He eyed her but only detected a warm smile on her face. "Black… with green snakes," he said haughtily.

He fled before he could embarrass himself even more.

xxx

The next day was a Hogsmeade day, and almost the entire castle had gathered for the outing; only the youngest students had to stay behind.

Hermione stood in the crowd as well, flanked by her friends. Ron and Harry were their normal energetic selves, both talking excitedly about possible purchases from the sweet shop and other things they desperately wanted.

Then Ginny fought her way through the masses to join them. The four of them set off. Hermione was soon pushed to the sidelines. Ginny hung on to her boyfriend, who was alternating between chatting with her and his best friend. Which apparently was Ron, and not Hermione.

Annoyed and a little hurt, Hermione slowed her steps and watched the three march on without noticing her absence. "Yes, it's great to have friends," she muttered dejectedly. "See if I buy any of you a present."

Hermione had been the third wheel for quite some time now, and it was beginning to annoy her to no end. She could hardly remember the last time any of her friends had actually spoken to her, other than requesting help with their homework.

She decided to make the most out of it and walked into the bookshop, intent on doing only things _she_ wanted to do. The others would have dragged her into every shop of their choice, and then they would moan and balk at having to follow her into the bookshop.

With a nod to the proprietor who knew her well, she began her leisurely foray into the newest tomes on offer. The shop was pleasantly warm, and she took a few layers off, looking less and less like a thickly wrapped mummy with each garment she shed.

She was lost in reading the spines and inhaling the lovely smell of leather bindings while wriggling out of a heavy cardigan, which she dropped where she stood, feeling oddly at home between the many literary treasures.

Ever so slowly, she kept walking sideways, her fingers running along the book spines until she reached up for a book. She was a little too short and was already on her toes when a hand shot up to take it down.

"Oi, I just chose…" she began hotly and tapered off when she recognized Professor Snape, who held out the book for her instead of pocketing it.

"You'll sprain something if you keep stretching like that," he drawled.

"How thoughtful of you," she retorted, nibbling on her lower lip as she reached out for the book.

Only then did she see that all her shed clothing was piled over his other arm.

He followed her gaze and cleared his throat softly. "You have atrocious manners, Miss Granger. This is not your dorm room, and you shouldn't just drop everything as you go."

"Why? Someone might steal them?" she quipped.

He held up her cardigan with a disdainful sniff. "Hardly."

Hermione purse her lips in annoyance. "It keeps me warm," she said almost petulantly.

"Undoubtedly," he replied, his fingers testing the material.

"Isn't it cold in the dungeons?" She had no idea why she asked, but she had no immediate urge to flee from his presence.

He looked up, his eyes slightly unfocused for a second. "Freezing! Hence the request for socks."

"Ah," was all she could come up with.

They stood there, neither seeming overly inclined to leave.

"Why aren't you with the nitwits you call… friends?" he suddenly asked, now playing with the buttons on her cardigan.

"I have dumped them," she said.

"Is that so? They didn't look particularly heart-broken when I came across them in Honeydukes."

That was a low blow, she thought, and turned away from him with a stony expression, walking to a small table in the corner.

"I apologize if I said anything… insensitive." He sounded pained as he rasped that word out.

She didn't look at him. "Almost choked on that one, didn't you?" she asked sweetly and heard him growl.

To her surprise, he sat in a chair next to her, her clothes now piled up in his lap.

"You look like a henpecked husband," she said exasperated and attempted to wrestle her clothes from him, only to stop when she became aware of what she had said, and to whom.

He didn't reply, and Hermione pretended never to have uttered these words.

She opened her book and noticed that he Summoned a book from the shelf. He began to read, using the enormous stack of clothes on him as a book rest.

She thought it best to follow his example. After just a few lines, her mouth opened, and she rushed out with her worries.

"They didn't even notice I was gone. I haven't got the Quidditch genes and I haven't got the boobs… LOOKS! Yes, looks to make me interesting enough to hold their attention," she rushed out.

She studiously avoided looking at him and got more and more agitated when he didn't answer immediately.

"Nitwits, Miss Granger. Immature, ignorant and foolish… children. Just children." His voice was surprisingly soft, and she nodded gratefully.

They returned to their books. After a lengthy period of respective silence that was only interrupted by the occasional turning of a page, Hermione reluctantly got to her feet.

Severus blinked owlishly at her and watched her return the book to the shelf.

"You're not buying it?"

"Have you noticed the price tag?" She laughed. Then she stood in front of him and after her initial hesitation, began to rifle through her belongings, which were still in his lap.

He let her, his eyes following the process keenly, his face staying carefully blank. He even handed her the gloves, his finger tips touching hers.

He looked into her face for a second and then held up her hat. Yet another woolly product; oddly misshapen and rather scratchy.

"I hope my socks will look better than this," he said wryly and smirked when she tugged on it forcefully.

"My mum will take care of the socks. The hat was… self-made," she admitted and hesitated with putting it on in front of him.

He stood and grabbed the floppy thing, only to wrestle it over her untameable mane.

"Well, if I ever need a hat," he began and paused to put on his cloak, "I will be contacting your mother."

With her outraged shriek following him, he fled the shop, chuckling to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

She noticed that she didn't have much time left for shopping. She was still disgruntled by her friends' behaviour, but set off to Honeydukes. Maybe getting them sweets would be enough for them. She had the feeling they didn't appreciate homework planners.

Might as well get them something they like and save some money in the process.

"Where have you been?" Harry's voice was suddenly right next to her, and she wanted to smile, but she stopped when she saw the angry expression on his face.

"You can't just go wandering off like that," he scolded, but instead of sounding like a concerned older brother he sounded like her keeper, and she certainly didn't appreciate the iron grip he had on her arm.

"Let go," she hissed and yanked herself free. "When did you finally notice I was gone?" she snapped.

"Now don't be like that, 'Mione. You made us worry, you know?" Ron asked while sucking on a lollipop.

"Oh yes, you are looking very worried, Ronald," she said angrily. "I have been gone an hour, and Hogsmeade is small enough to search within five minutes. But you haven't searched for me, have you." It wasn't a question.

"Well, we knew you could take care of yourself," Ginny tried to placate.

Hermione scoffed. "You can't have it both ways. You were either worried, or you thought I could take care of myself."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but Harry still glowered at her.

"If we are not good enough to spend your valuable time with, say so from the beginning, and we can enjoy ourselves without you," he told her.

Hermione was close to tears by now and seeing Ron nod fervently at Harry's words did the rest.

"You have not spoken a single word to me since we left Hogwarts, because I can't join your constant talk about Quidditch, and Harry is glued to Ginny while Ron plays protective brother or tries to chat up girls. Where do I fit in?"

"If you would just try to find some interest in the things we do, you wouldn't be such an outsider," Harry bellowed suddenly, drawing the attention of other students.

"And what about my interests?" Hermione sobbed, tears running freely down her rosy cheeks.

"You can't expect us to sit still and read all the time," Ron scoffed and chuckled as if hers was the absurdest idea of the century.

"Hermione, listen. Why don't you…" Ginny tried to find some soothing words, but Hermione ran away, barrelling through the crowds of shoppers.

"Really boys, I don't think we were very fair. I mean, she doesn't have anybody else," Ginny said but didn't feel very guilty for spending time with Harry. He was her boyfriend after all, and Hermione would have to get used to another female presence in Harry's life.

xxx

Hermione ran blindly through the village until she left the shops and houses behind her and collapsed under a tree in the forest. The frozen ground was hard under her and quickly leeched all warmth from her body.

She really didn't mean anything to them, did she? She cried her eyes out, her chest heaving with her irregular breathing. The icy wind blew harshly, making her shiver in no time. Her lungs hurt with every breath; the biting wind wasn't meant to be inhaled with distraught gasps.

Why didn't they like her?

What did Harry see in Ginny? She was a girl with a fiery temper that made her rather vindictive, and she hexed anyone that said unsavoury things about her precious boyfriend like a revengeful fury.

What did they see in Ronald? The loud-mouthed, moronic sidekick that lusted after attention and sought it between girls' thighs when he didn't get it anywhere else.

And what was so special about Harry Potter anyway? He was moody, paranoid and easy to goad, headstrong and a right pillock when he wanted to be.

Sure, she wasn't easy to be around either. She knew she was too studious and had a tendency to be anti-social. But she was also loyal, helpful and… Well, there were worse people than her!

Neither of her friends liked studying, neither of them liked quiet walks around the lake, unless it ended in a tryst. They didn't even like the same music. They loved Quidditch, Hermione didn't. They had nothing in common with Hermione. They were really unsuited to be friends!

But she wanted them back…

She didn't want to be alone…

She had been alone since kindergarten; no one wanted to play school with the serious girl who wanted to discipline the other kids. Not even the doctor games had been fun with her, as her way of playing consisted of analysing her play-mates' psychological problems and giving detailed outlines of their symptoms.

Primary school had been a nightmare as well. No one wanted to be friends with the girl who made them all look bad with her excessive knowledge and wish to learn. She had always been called a suck-up and a swot.

She had been glad and even grateful for Harry's and Ron's friendship. After almost seven years she was alone again.

With an angry and anguished cry she yanked her ugly hat off and threw it away, as if it was to blame for everything. Maybe it was. Maybe she just looked too ugly to be friends with them…

"Don't be ridiculous," she scolded herself and simply let the tears fall.

She shrieked in alarm when she felt something descend onto her head. She reared backwards but was held by two arms. She looked into the solemn face of Professor Snape and calmed somewhat.

He let go of her arms and pulled the abominable head gear down as far as it went, pulling her hair from her wet face as he went.

"Are my comments about your knitting skills the reason for those tears?" he asked stiffly but with some concern.

Hermione snorted at that, producing a disgustingly wet, nasal sound that made both of them cringe. She shook her head and told him about the earlier conversation, hiccoughing through the entire story.

He listened patiently, and when she was finished and cried out for the time being, he pressed a handkerchief into her hand.

"I told you they are nothing more than immature, ignorant and foolish children," he said, re-using his earlier words.

"Maybe, but they were all I had," she lamented.

"There are more people out there."

"There were the first friends in my entire life."

"You will be leaving school in six months time; you are bound to meet new people."

"I don't make friends easily," she admitted and blushed deeply, feeling very inadequate with that fault. Admitting to catching syphilis couldn't have been more painful for her.

"You are an interesting young… woman. You will meet mature adults to share your interests. You will be appreciated in ways that these boys are not capable of."

Despite the unenthusiastic voice, his words actually sounded promising, and she hoped he spoke from experience. That is why she asked her next question.

"How many friends do you have?" she asked and looked him in the eyes which narrowed quickly.

"I never had the need for friends."

"How many?" She wouldn't be deterred.

He stayed silent for a long time.

"Albus… perhaps?" he said hesitantly and then scowled blackly as he waited for her reaction.

But Hermione just looked at him with her amber eyes, still moist and reddened from her crying.

"_You_ are an interesting person, a scholar, and you don't seem to have any friends. What are _my_ chances?" Her hopes to find others to actually share her interests and like her were dashed.

Snape couldn't believe his ears. How could she worry about having his friendless fate befall her? She was beautif…, not hard on the eyes, and not as anti-social as him, didn't look down on everyone with a lesser intelligence… He couldn't undersatnd her worries.

He reached for her, still glowering, and wiped her tears away with almost harsh moves. His fingers were as icy as her cheeks.

She shivered.

"Even now there are many among the teachers at Hogwarts who would gladly befriend you!" he admitted almost harshly. "You will find friends!"

She looked at him gratefully and sniffed with a little less despair.

"Your lips are blue. Maybe I'll knit you a hat," she said softly after a long pause, effectively ending the sore subject for both their sakes.

He blinked at her non-sequitur, but was grateful for the end of such an intimate subject.

"Maybe you should send a request to your mother," he proposed and pulled her to her feet.

"No. I can make you one." At his doubtful look she added, "A decent one!"

They walked back to the village in silence, each lost in their thoughts. When they reached the first houses, he stopped and half-turned to her.

"I am a chaperone for this dreadful outing and I need to herd the obnoxious children back to the castle. I have to leave now, and you should return to the castle," he said in a formal voice, which was still less cold than it could have been.

"I will be alright," she promised. "I'll just stop to buy some wool on my way back."

"Not on my account," he said hastily, but Hermione only grinned.

Then she sobered. "Thank you," she said softly.

He looked at her with his unfathomable eyes for a long moment and finally nodded once before striding away.

Hermione smiled at his retreating form and then set off to do some last minute shopping.


	4. Chapter 4

She dreaded the return to the castle and kept her head down as she walked straight to her dormitory.

She really didn't notice Harry, Ron and Ginny sitting around the fireplace in the common room, neither did she notice them watching her.

There was only a week until Christmas, and her newest task kept her busy and away from her ex-friends.

At meal time she sat wherever she found an empty seat; in class she either had her eyes on the teacher or firmly on her notes.

Every Gryffindor and mostly the entire castle had noticed the rift between the trio, but no one had managed to get anything out of Hermione. So they listened to Harry's recounting of events in which Hermione came out as the snobbish girl who abandoned her friends, because she didn't deem them interesting or worthy enough.

Hermione practically lived in the library and her dormitory. The Restricted Section was rarely used, and in her dormitory she pulled the curtains of her four-poster closed and placed a Silencing Charm on her bed.

Potions class was certainly interesting. The Professor didn't make one derogatory statement about Hermione, who kept her head and hand down. Instead, he targeted Harry and Ron mercilessly, and Hermione couldn't find it in her to feel particularly sorry for them. At the end of the class, she had deliberately stayed behind to give Snape a grateful smile.

He gave her a rather roguish smirk that made her chuckle. When his vindictiveness wasn't intended for her, it was a rather appealing feature.

xxx

One night, it was extremely cold in the castle and many students had taken refuge in the showers that never seemed to run out of hot water.

Hermione wanted to do the same, but Lavender and Parvati had locked themselves rather rudely into their shared bathroom, not even giving Hermione a chance to use the loo.

It was an hour to curfew, but it didn't look as if the girls would leave the bathroom anytime soon, and Hermione was shivering in her bed. When the two witches finally came out, Hermione had fallen asleep but woke up quickly at the noise they made.

They happily chatted away, not caring about the other witch in their room. Hermione kept quiet; she had got used to their rude behaviour.

She had cold feet again and couldn't fall asleep, despite the Warming Charm. As there was still time before curfew, she decided to do something productive. With a shiver, she eased out from her fairly warm bed and made to leave the room.

She hugged her cardigan tighter around herself, feeling the cold seep through her many layers of clothing.

She pulled her knitted hat from her pocket and pulled it over her head, forcing her unruly hair into submission. Goosebumps erupted all over her body, and she applied another Warming Charm.

She felt marginally better, but she still had her arms wrapped around her upper body as if they could make her warmer. If nothing else, they gave her some comfort.

She reached the kitchens without encountering a single soul. With reluctance, she pulled her hands from inside her cardigan to tickle the pear. She sneezed heartily, and another tremor ran through her body, making her feel cold all over again.

She stepped into the vast kitchen and found only a handful of elves in residence. They greeted her with smiles and kind ear-twitching, her presence there quite the regular occurrence. They didn't offer her food and simply went back to their business. They knew she would ask for whatever she needed when she was ready.

Officially, students were not allowed to be there, but the staff was aware of regular forays into the kitchens and usually turned a blind eye. This was what Hermione was hoping for when the door behind her opened, and she saw teaching robes descend down the stairs.

Even as she made out the familiar shape of her Potions Professor, she didn't breathe a sigh of relief, not quite knowing where she stood with him. But when his face came into view and he merely cocked his head in that adoring fashion she had come to like, she smiled and greeted him with a friendly, "Good evening."

He replied in kind and walked past her to sit down at a nearby table, his steady gaze quickly returning to her.

"What can I brings you?" a house-elf of unknown sex asked Snape, who ordered a hot cocoa and an omelette without taking his eyes of his student. When the happy elf scuttled off, Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"I like cocoa. I would never drink it in public, though," he said, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Why did you come here? You could just have ordered it from your rooms."

"I wanted to know what the only student not in a common room was doing here."

"Are you spying on me?" She frowned.

"No, but I happened to see you slip in here on my patrol."

The elf came back and served Snape his meal, adding a few chocolate sprinkles to his cocoa with luminous eyes. Snape thanked her and began to eat, still watching Hermione calmly between bites.

Nervously her tongue darted out to wet her cracked lips, and she saw how he watched that gesture.

Distracting herself, she pulled a piece of paper out of a pocket and unfolded it before handing it over to an elf that had waited for her to do just that.

Now it was Snape's turn to raise a questioning eyebrow.

Hermione just quirked her lips, quite liking his enquiring look.

Severus took a sip from his cocoa when a horde of six elves came barrelling to his table and put various utensils on it before vanishing again. A moment later they returned, their thin arms laden with ingredients.

Snape could see where this was going, and he pulled the piece of parchment from her hands, but she snatched it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," she said a little sadly.

"For whom?" he asked stupidly.

"My dearest Potions master," was her dry reply, and she had to change her expression from mildly exasperated to meaningful before he believed that she wasn't joking.

"What if I don't like what you'll make?"

She pouted and handed over her recipe.

"Chocolate chip cookies," Severus read and handed the piece of paper back. "Proceed," he said haughtily and went back to his omelette.

Hermione snorted and began. She had created many concoctions down here: soups, gratins, traditional meals and a few more exotic ones. But her passion was sweets and treats.

She felt a pang as she remembered sharing her newest creation with the boys. Seeing her Professor's eager look, though, she felt better immediately.

They talked little, mainly about the different ingredients and about their likes and dislikes when it came to food. She got hot during the preparation and even took off her cardigan, revealing a black fleece jumper.

He complimented her on her excellent choice of colour.

She let him lick the bowl clean after she transferred the dough onto the baking tray. He looked at her, obviously debating whether to keep his dignity or give in and enjoy, but soon took a spoon to scrape the remains from the bowl. She chuckled when he replaced that spoon with his finger after a while.

After putting the tray into the oven, she walked back to the table, which had already been cleared and cleaned. There was not a single sign of the flour she had dropped earlier.

Severus had long finished his meal and ordered two more hot cocoas when she sat down next to him. Hermione giggled when the same elf from before came to put chocolate sprinkles over their beverages with an eager smile.

She looked at him fondly as he sipped. His hand came up to wipe the foam off his upper lip with his index finger and lick his appendage clean.

Hermione put her mug down and leaned over to him slowly, until she could feel his sweet breath on her moist lips.

"You missed a bit," she whispered, and felt her own lips part as she seriously thought about licking the milk foam off of his upper lip.

"Indeed?" he rasped, and blindly put his own cup on the table before closing the closing the inch that separated them.

His lips were as cracked as hers, but neither of them cared. He tasted peculiar: a mix of chocolate and the sharp onions that had been in his omelette. She fleetingly tried to recall what she had eaten last, but forgot to care when his tongue played with hers.

He drew back quickly and put some distance between them, frowning at his mug. Hermione was disappointed but also relieved that he hadn't run from the room, threatening her with expulsion.

She tried to act unaffected. It was either that or fly at him again to suck his tongue into her mouth.

The timer went off, and Hermione gave him a small kiss on his creased forehead before quickly striding over to the oven, missing his conflicted but needy expression. She pulled the finished cookies out, enjoying the hot air that wafted out and enveloped her.

Severus watched her swaying bottom that not even several layers of clothing could conceal. His mouth felt dry after their short kiss, but he was loathe to wash away her taste which still lingered in his mouth. After a short deliberation, he drank, hoping that he wouldn't be tempted to renew her flavour by kissing her again.

With a proud smile, Hermione came back, carrying a tasty looking bunch of cookies on a tray.

"They smell nice," he offered. "Which is not a guarantee that they will be palatable," he teased, trying to look serious.

She glared at him. "Careful, Mister, or I won't share them," she warned with all the ferocity of a new-born deer.

"I thought you baked them for me," he said, feigning deep hurt.

"I see your acting classes have paid off," she quipped, smiling at his overly tragic expression.

"Cheeky wench," he growled and snatched a still hot cookie from the tray before she could get them out of his reach.

They were crispy on the outside while the hot centre was still soft and even a little gooey, the molten dark and white chocolate chips coating his tongue. They were absolutely delicious.

"Not bad for a first try," was all the praise he could muster and had the rest of his cookie pulled from his grasp for his lack of gratitude.

"Cheeky git," she growled.

She stared intently at his still chewing mouth, licking her lips in time with his. She felt the earlier heat of desire coil in her stomach.

"You look delicious," she breathed, not noticing how corny her words might sound, and pulled his chocolaty mouth to hers. She didn't mind the mixture of thick saliva and dough remains and sucked them in to her mouth.

"That's probably unhygienic," he protested against her lips, even though his cock swelled in time with his sky-rocketing lust. He feebly tried to escape her advances, but not even his hands obeyed when he ordered them to let go of her.

"Rubbish," she whispered and resumed her attack.

It was some time later before they left the kitchens, both satisfied with the stormy kisses and hesitant caresses, yet yearning for more. Neither dared to take the next step into forbidden forays.

Severus carried his cookies to his rooms, graciously handing her two and keeping the other twelve.

Hermione came back to Gryffindor tower near midnight. The common room was empty, and no one had reported her missing. With a deep sigh she walked into her room and fell asleep in her clothes. Not only did they keep her warm, but they smelled just the faintest bit of Severus.


	5. Chapter 5

The idea of a hot shower or bath suddenly sounded just right. She could have used her own bathroom, but she wasn't looking for a confrontation with the other two girls who would undoubtedly complain if she woke them up.

So she pulled her thick bathrobe over her pyjamas, put one more pair of socks on and flung a towel over her arm before quietly leaving her room.

She knew where the Prefects' bathroom was and even knew the password and made her way to the room, giddy with anticipation. It was almost midnight, and it should have been empty.

A sudden _Miaou _halted her steps, and she held her breath as she saw Mrs. Norris slink around a corner. The cat might be a pain in the arse, but she certainly was doing a good job. Hermione only wished it wouldn't be _her_ at the receiving end of the cat-stare.

The animal walked closer to her, yellow eyes never leaving Hermione's. At the sound of Filch's voice, Hermione turned and bolted away. In her haste she took a couple of wrong turns, but that didn't stop her.

She ran up and down stairs, losing her orientation. Only when her lungs were not getting enough oxygen anymore did she slow down. She looked around the unfamiliar part of the castle, her wheezy breath echoing loudly through the dark corridor.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned and fell backwards in one motion, dropping her towel in the process. She landed on her bottom and gasped for air, only managing a whistling sound in her terror. It was impossible for her to scream when she was truly frightened.

"Calm down, girl!"

She could finally make out Professor Snape's face in the dimly lit hall, and she shut her eyes, trying to calm herself. When she re-opened them, she found her Professor squatting in front of her, his eyes portraying irritation and concern.

Her breathing had returned to normal, and she could now pay attention to his attire.

Just like her, he was only clad in a bathrobe, something that could be a t-shirt, a pair of threadbare long-johns, but no other underwear. Due to his position, his long-johns gaped spectacularly. The gap for easy access at the front revealed practically everything.

"You're going commando in this cold?" she said in her most professional tone, keeping her eyes firmly on his face while she spoke.

He lowered his head and quickly shot to his feet as he noticed what she had seen. He was blushing madly. On his pale face the added colour didn't look healthy but gave the impression of a severe fever.

"What are you doing here?" he asked tersely, not looking at her, pulling his robe tightly around himself.

"I was looking for the Prefects' bathroom."

"You are not a Prefect."

"No, but I was horribly cold and wanted a hot bath."

"You have a bathroom attached to your dormitory."

"Yes, but Lavender and Parvati had locked themselves in it for hours."

"Surely you could have got in there, if you really wanted," he mocked.

"To do what? Join their games in the tub or take a piss in front of them?" she snapped.

If anything, his cheeks just got redder. It took him a moment to compose himself.

"If you were looking for the Prefect's bathroom, what exactly are you doing here?"

"I got lost when I tried to outrun Mrs. Norris and Filch," she admitted.

"The cat is asthmatic and suffers from arthritis; you could run rings around that creature." He smirked.

"Well, I didn't know that." She was annoyed with herself and the blasted cat. "So how do I get to the Prefects' bathroom?"

"You have no permission to go there," he countered, and her face fell.

This was one of the few moments when she really regretted not having been chosen for a Prefect or Head Girl. Seeing that there was no point in arguing, she walked past her teacher after a quiet, "Good night," hoping to find the way to her rooms before morning. Well, at least she might get warm from walking.

An arm around her wrist held her back, and she questioningly looked at Snape, who was grinding his teeth audibly. Without a word, he led her down the corridor, going the opposite way from where she came.

She said nothing. She would be overjoyed if he had changed his mind and showed her the bathroom, and she'd be grateful if he'd bring her to Gryffindor tower.

He pulled her along, his grip gentle, and his steps slow enough for her to keep up in her fuzzy slippers. He stopped in front of a very old looking door, and she just about made out the words "Teachers' Bathroom" before he opened it for her.

"Teachers'…" she gasped and was pulled inside.

As soon as they set foot into the room, several torches sprang to life, illuminating the stunning décor.

The room was huge and covered with black marble tiles. The tub was actually more of a pool and looked inviting. The moon shone brightly through the enormous, arched windows, bathing the pool in an ethereal light.

While Hermione gaped at her surroundings, Snape had walked over to the pool and knelt down, this time covering his privates meticulously.

As she heard the splashing of water, she hurried over to her Professor, kneeling beside him. She was so fascinated by the numerous taps that she didn't notice his intense regard of her.

Severus, on the other hand, had only eyes for her. How could anyone look so overjoyed by watching a pool fill? He himself had been impressed when he had seen this room for the first time, but he had merely smirked appreciatively, and that had been it.

Hermione's eyes shone with wonderment and pleasure, running her hand under one of the taps and squealing happily. She had no idea what a lovely picture she made with her honest and unstudied reaction.

"Please do not take too long; you still have classes tomorrow," he said and got to his feet.

Her expression fell. "Wait, are you leaving?"

He nodded.

"But… but surely you came here to have a bath."

"I already had…"

"No, you didn't. Your hair is still oily and you haven't the faintest smell of soap on you," she argued.

"Be that as it may, we can hardly share a bath."

"Why not? It's big enough."

"Miss Granger," he said tiredly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Stay," she said.

"It is not appropriate." The subject of their previous kisses was studiously avoided.

"No one will know, and we aren't doing anything. Stay!"

"This is…" He just shook his head. He still hadn't left the room and was actually contemplating staying.

"Stay. Please. If anyone comes I shall dive to the ground and use the bubblehead charm to stay undetected."

She looked at him imploringly, and he felt his resolve melt. It hadn't been much of a resolve anyway.

With an aggrieved grumble, he opened his robe in acquiescence, forgetting his unattractive choice of long johns and the tatty long-sleeved t-shirt he wore.

Hermione found her eyes immediately zeroing in to his groin, suppressing a girlish giggle.

He looked at her with a very put-upon expression and noticed what she was looking at. His hands covered his barely concealed endowment with lightning speed.

He wanted to put his bathrobe back on and get out of the steamy room only to have her snatch the garment away.

"Miss Granger," he hissed, "This is not playtime."

"No, it isn't," she said wistfully and removed her own robe. She suddenly wished for more mature nightclothes, feeling embarrassed by her Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas. She didn't even like the damn bear!

"Miss…" was all his suddenly tight throat allowed.

She looked at him with a shy smile and discarded her pyjamas, standing naked in front of her teacher, who was breathing heavily.

"Get in the water," he croaked and cleared his throat.

"You first. Otherwise you'll do a runner."

That had actually not been his plan, but he motioned her to turn so he could remove his last garments. He proceeded to walk over to the steps that safely led into the pool, which was already full, his hands still covering his manhood.

The tubs had turned themselves off, and the room was quiet, save for the slight splashing sound Severus made as he submerged himself in the hot water. He sighed contentedly and swam towards the far corner to watch her. She was apparently polite enough to keep her back turned until his body was safely obscured by the water, for which he was grateful.

Hermione walked over to the same steps, only to hiss immediately as her ice-cold feet met the hot water. To her consternation, she couldn't enter the pool as quickly as she'd hoped, and tried not to cover herself like a bashful virgin.

She hopped from foot to foot, getting used to the rather high temperatures. Her breasts jiggled with each movement.

Severus' lips were parted slightly, the sight of her nude body had a most untimely effect on him. He could not look away, though.

The soft light from the torches on the wall bathed her young body in a warm light that made her soft curves look even more womanly. Her nipples were pebbled, and Severus sighed quietly, a sound stemming from disbelief and simple contentment.

She looked up at him then. Their eyes met and held, and Severus swallowed convulsively.

Hermione smiled softly. Finally, she got accustomed to the heat and walked carefully down the steps, not wanting to humiliate herself by slipping into the water like an ungainly hippo.

Hermione swam to the opposite side, from which she had a frontal view of her Professor. She turned for a moment to retrieve her shampoo from the pocket of her bathrobe, which lay by the edge of the pool. Then she disappeared under the water, leaving Severus to crane his neck.

"Merlin, that's hot," she gasped as she resurfaced and frantically wiped her face.

Even in its wet state, her hair was a bushy mess and had only diminished slightly in volume. Severus found that titbit of information more fascinating than it should have been.

"This is my personal favourite temperature," he called from across the pool. "Too hot?"

"I feel like I'm melting," was her reply as she fanned herself. "I can't believe there is a state of _'too hot_' during this winter." She laughed that soft laugh of hers.

Severus smirked a little and just watched as she proceeded to work her shampoo into the masses of curls. Three times she refilled her hands with the substance before every part of her hair was suitably foamy.

She rubbed and massaged her scalp with her eyes closed, humming an unfamiliar tune. Severus just gazed at her, surprised with how natural she could behave while sharing a bath with her Professor. He also marvelled at his own behaviour, but couldn't for the life of him make himself care about possible consequences.

He heard her take a deep breath and observed for a second time how she dove under the water. She stayed rather long, and Severus made a concerned step forward when she resurfaced, gasping and laughing at the same time.

"Gods, this is wonderful. I wish I could sneak in more often," she said with a happy smile while she wiped her eyes and wrung the excess water from her hair.

When she was done, she stood and regarded him. Severus felt rather insecure under her regard.

"Aren't you going to wash?"

In answer, he summoned something from his discarded bathrobe and held up the something with his hand.

"What's that? A piece of soap? Don't tell me you're washing your hair with that," she said, taken aback.

Severus felt equally wrong-footed and scowled.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"No wonder your hair is as… stringy as it is," she said, opting for some politeness at the last second.

She nibbled on her lower lip before picking up her shampoo and heading towards him.

"Stay where you are," he said urgently, feeling discomfited with his still moderately inflated appendage under the water.

"I am not going to molest you," she promised and kept walking.

Severus bit his tongue before he could blurt out, "I can't promise the same."

The pool was rather deep, and the water reached Hermione's chin, making walking almost impossible for her. With an eye-roll, she pushed off the ground and swam the remaining distance.

Severus pressed himself against the tiles and covered his unruly manhood as best as he could.

Then she stood before him with a smile, holding onto the shampoo. She suddenly blinked rapidly, hastily wiping her eye in which a water drop had landed. Her smile never dimmed.

"Well, go on, get your hair wet," she demanded, still wiping her eye while looking at him with the other.

He found himself obeying and simply bent his knees until he felt the hot water cover his head. His knees made contact with her flesh and he almost inhaled water. He made the mistake to open his eyes, the temptation of seeing her body up close too great.

The water was simply too hot and he shot upright quickly, pressing his palms against his burning eyes.

She chuckled softly as if she knew what had occurred, and he didn't dare look at her. The next second he felt her hands on his head, bringing a cool liquid onto the sensitive skin of his scalp.

He shuddered and snapped his eyes open. Her lower lip was caught in her teeth as she lathered his hair efficiently with gentle strokes.

He was quite a bit taller than her; the water barely reached his shoulders while it lapped at her chin. It made her task less than easy, but Severus' height gave him a rather enticing view of her front.

His rapidly blinking eyes wandered restlessly down to her cleavage and back to her face only to return to her breasts a second later. He was almost getting dizzy with the rapid eye movement and had to close his lids to calm himself.

Now he could concentrate more on her massaging hands. It was a glorious feeling, one he had never felt before. People were not exactly lining up for the pleasure of washing his greasy mop of hair. A soft moan was drawn from him, and he lowered his head to give her better access.

She was drawing this out, and they both knew it, but neither said a word.

"Okay, you can rinse now," she finally said with a sigh. Only her aching arms had forced her to stop.

Severus vanished under the water and washed the shampoo off. When his knees touched her legs, he made no move to jerk away.

When small fingers began to caress the skin around his knee caps, he came up with a gasp and wiped his face with one broad sweep, looking into the face of a smirking Hermione.

"See, squeaky clean," she announced and gently pulled on a strand of black hair that indeed made a squeaky sound between her fingers.

They looked at each other steadily for many minutes. Hermione wanted to ask if she could help him clean anything else, but she thought that was a bit too forward.

With a wistful smile, she turned and swam away, her curls trailing after her like some form of tenacious seaweed.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione didn't need to clean herself, having had a shower that morning, and so she merely swam for entertainment. She hadn't been swimming in ages and only then remembered how glorious if felt to glide effortlessly through the water.

She turned onto her back and simply drifted on the surface without moving. She felt so relaxed that she didn't notice what effect she had on her bath-buddy.

Severus swallowed heavily as he saw her breasts rise above the water and brought a hand to his penis as he witnessed the alluring hardening of her nipples. He could even make out the curls between her legs as she lazily floated in the middle of the pool. He realised that he was slowly fisting himself and yanked his fingers away.

With a needy and utterly conflicted expression, he balled his fists before giving in to his urges and Summoned her wandlessly.

He did it carefully and used minimum force to let his magic pull her to him. He gulped and trembled tensely as she came closer, her feet pointing in his direction.

Hermione had felt the thrum of his magic as it wrapped itself around her. She wasn't afraid of him and smiled happily to herself as she felt herself move through the water so slowly that it felt like a natural movement. She came to a halt when her toes encountered warm flesh.

"Very impressive," she murmured softly and lifted her head, grinning at him playfully.

His eyebrows were raised and drawn together, making him look helpless, his inner turmoil visible on his face.

Hermione folded her body and put her feet back onto the ground. Resolutely, she stepped closer to him, keeping her warm eyes on his.

His breath was coming fast now, his nostrils flaring wildly before he had to open his mouth to get more air into his lungs.

She tried to stride in a sexy manner, but her size really didn't allow that, and she had to resort to hopping forward making a waving motion with her arms to propel her closer. There were less than two feet between them, and she didn't have to hop for long.

He stood stiffly, not daring to take the next step after Summoning her. His hands were balled and held awkwardly in front of his chest, making him look like a scared child that dearly wanted to touch the pretty pony but was too afraid to reach out.

He looked absolutely endearing, and Hermione couldn't help but to fall against him, pressing her breasts against his arms. She heard his tortured moan and felt him tremble against her, his hardened member jerking against her stomach, feeling hotter than the surrounding water.

Severus was overwhelmed. It was a novel experience to have a woman not gagging from physical contact with him. Add the fact that she was doing it of her own volition, naked no less, and you end up a wizard who was dangerously close to spraying his load. He definately regretted not having had a chance to apply any measures before their unplanned meeting to take the edge of, as it were.

Carefully, he pulled his arms free and felt her body wriggling closer, rubbing him most deliciously. His bum cheeks tightened in a late attempt to try and stop the telling tingling in his nether region, knowing it wouldn't be enough. When her pubes were tickling his sac, he thrust inelegantly against her and felt himself erupt.

His eyes and teeth were shut tightly, a rumbling sound rattled through his throat as his orgasm seized him.

Hermione didn't feel his seed shooting out of him but had felt him tense before shuddering with a deep groan. Then she was aware of his slowly softening cock, and she knew what had happened.

After a short moment of post-orgasm relaxation, he tensed again, no doubt embarrassed.

"Enjoyable?" she asked softly and reached up to press her mouth to his jaw, feeling the faintest hint of stubble under her lips.

He made to speak, producing an unhappy croak. Hermione quickly shushed him.

"If you're happy, I'm happy," she said and was just glad to feel him against her.

But he wasn't happy. His previous happiness evaporated only to be replaced by a feeling of inadequacy. He regretted ever bringing her here.

He pushed her away, turned, and made to haul himself out of the huge tub, only to be seized by the ankle, which left him with his pale arse pointing straight at her face.

He sank back into the water before she said anything.

"If you run now, you're just like Harry and Ron," she murmured.

With a sigh, Severus wearily rubbed his face and turned in slow motion, keeping his eyes cast downwards before he gathered his courage and looked at her face.

She didn't seem angry at his fast way of ending their encounter, and neither was she laughing her head off. Her calm reaction made it possible for him to relax somewhat. Before he could blurt out some humiliating apology, he suddenly had to chuckle at her diminutive size. Only her head with the enormous unsure eyes was peeking out of the water. With a snort he pulled her to him and picked her up, glad when she wrapped herself around him.

He revelled at feel of the young woman in his arms and couldn't quite believe they had ended up here. He still felt embarrassed by his earlier accidental 'eruption' but felt too content in her embrace to leave.

Not wanting to be compared to Potter and Weasley played a part as well, but mostly he didn't want to see her sad. He had picked up the pieces after her split from her friends and he was loath to break her again.

"It is late, though, and I'm getting pruney," he said reluctantly after a while.

She leaned back and searched his face. Apparently she found whatever she was looking for, and she smiled as she nodded.

"At least you're not telling me I'm getting too heavy," she joked.

"You don't weigh anything as it is, and you're practically weightless in the water," he said dryly.

They parted reluctantly, and Hermione grimaced when she was once more up to her chin in the water. Severus snorted at her annoyed expression. "Little stumpy," he purred and patted her on the head before attempting to swim away.

Again, she managed to grab his ankle and he went under water, only to come up sputtering. He tried to keep himself above the water, only to be yanked backwards by her, forcing him to paddle awkwardly like a dog.

"You little…" he seethed.

"Stumpy?" she offered, her voice irritated.

Severus wanted to put his other foot down but was pulled under water by her surprisingly strong arms for a second time.

When he came up again he looked for her, ready to retaliate, he saw her climb out of the pool. Revenge lost any significance as he took in the smooth roundness of her bum.

He swam after her, his eyes never leaving her nude body as she calmly began towelling herself off. She turned, and he was afraid to see her angry, but she smirked cheekily.

"Good night then, Professor," she said sweetly and swiftly walked towards the exit.

"Do you know the way back to your rooms?" he drawled and pulled himself out as she stopped and turned around with pinched lips.

Her expression didn't change as she ogled the naked, dripping male by the pool.

"Well, just tell me the way," she proposed and walked backwards as Severus advanced on her, rubbing the towel over himself as he went.

"I don't trust your memory, Miss Granger. We don't want you to get lost again, do we?" He dropped his towel and summoned his clothes silently and they soared through the air, landing on his shoulder.

"Impressive," she remarked, her eyes darting deliberately from the clothes to his groin and back again.

He smirked but was glad when he put his robe on. The whole predator thing was a bit difficult for him when he was completely starkers. Besides, he didn't have much right to act the predator after ejaculating with the speed and grace of a teenager.

As he stopped in front of her, he dropped his threatening persona and cocked his head as he regarded her.

"This is insane," he said, his tone almost wistful.

"But it feels right," she said and reached up to run a finger over his brow and down his cheek, sighing when she traced the dimple his lop-sided smile created.

Yes, that was the crux of the matter: it felt right - it felt good, and he couldn't recall the last time he felt anything even similarly captivating. He didn't have a clue what he was doing, though, but stopping was not an option anymore. If he could only convince the few morals he had, he'd be alright…

"To your rooms now," he said, straightening.

"Yes, sir," she said with military exactness and saw him roll his eyes. He saw her shiver slightly and cast a strong Warming Charm at her. She did the same for him and added a Drying Charm for his dripping hair. He wanted to return the favour.

"Not the… hair!" she moaned, but he had already cast the spell before she had finished her sentence. She glowered at the snickering wizard and tried to smooth her impossibly frizzy mop down. "Never the hair!" she scolded and he nodded, still chuckling softly at her appearance.

They left the bathroom, and Hermione wondered if she'd ever see it again. In complete silence, they walked through the draughty corridors.

He brought her to a familiar corridor, not wanting to be witnessed by any patrolling teachers near Gryffindor tower.

"I can take it from here."

He nodded.

"Thank you," she added and turned before she got mushy or embarrassed herself by attempting to flirt.

"Five points for getting lost," he called and heard her make an exasperated noise, but she didn't turn. He chuckled before striding down to his quarters, his mind on nothing else but the last hour.


	7. Chapter 7

Only one more day to the Yule holidays, and Hermione hadn't seen Snape privately since their joint bath. She had watched him covertly whenever she got the chance, but she wasn't pining for him like the women in the romance novels she had read.

She had no silly fantasies about a future liaison with him - no dreams about a fairy-tale marriage, or black-haired children, or a house with a cute little fence. She would be disappointed, though, if he'd push her away now.

Their eyes had met on a few occasions and both managed to keep up an indifferent mien. She was rather proud of herself. She had seen other girls who got all googly–eyed when the boy of their dreams got anywhere near them.

Keeping a professional, dispassionate look gave them the opportunity to gaze at each other quite often, without having to check guiltily if they had been observed.

Her friends had not even tried to reconcile with her. Well, Ron had been cheeky enough to ask for help with homework and had got angry when she had given him an incredulous stare and a flat refusal to even give him the names of relevant books.

"A good friend you are," he had said viciously before he left.

It had stung, even though she knew what a hypocrite he was. But she had some pride, and she knew that he would have gone back to ignoring her after he got what he wanted. It had been hard not to give in, but she had been strong.

She felt horribly alone, but the short periods of time she spend gazing at Snape were enough to tide her over until…

Well, she didn't know how to end that sentence, but it didn't matter. It was enough.

On Friday after classes were over, the majority of the students left Hogwarts. Among them Harry, Ron and Ginny, who had made an insincere invitation to the Burrow, emphasising that it was their mother who had asked her to come.

She had declined, of course. Now, she was the only Gryffindor except for two fifth year boys that had elected to stay.

The younger students were cordial but had no interest in befriending her. So Hermione at least had the common room to herself, choosing the best spot by the fire to read a book in absolute peace and quiet.

She only saw Severus during mealtimes. They never spoke other than asking the other to pass the gravy or the mash. But the fleeting looks they exchanged were a balm to her.

She suddenly missed Potions class but didn't dare ask for private tutoring or any such nonsense. Going to his rooms was equally an idea she quickly discarded. What would her excuse be? Let me in, sir, I missed the familiar smell of pickled bat-wings…

She didn't see him at all on Christmas Eve, and she felt a deep pang of disappointment that staggered her. Gods, she was in danger of turning into one of those googly-eyed bints that drooled at the mere sight of their lovers and pined for them after a five-minute separation.

Well, they weren't lovers as such, were they? Surely that term hinted to more than kissing and naked embraces… Was it sex that made someone a lover? Would the wish for intercourse make a lover if it is reciprocated? She had no idea. All she knew was that he was more than just a friend.

She had tried to find the teachers' bathroom again to no avail. Then she had spent some time in the kitchens, hoping to find him, but he wasn't there, and he didn't show up during the two hours she laboured over assorted Christmas cookies.

The next morning, she went straight to breakfast, not even bothering to look at the pile of presents under the tree in the common room, knowing that there was nothing for her anyway.

She saw him at breakfast and couldn't hide her happy smile as she greeted him. She kept the greeting impersonal enough and merely gave the assembled staff a cheery, "Merry Christmas!"

He seemed agitated, his eyes finding hers repeatedly only to look down at his plate with a frown quickly.

Hermione watched his odd behaviour for a while, her previous happiness evaporating with spectacular speed. With her track-record of losing friends, she feared the worst and almost choked on her scrambled egg as her throat closed with dread.

She stopped eating and clung to her mug of hot chocolate with trembling hands. She kept her eyes on her plate without seeing its contents, her mind helpfully providing many different break-up scenes.

When tears threatened, she got to her feet and hurried away without so much as a "Goodbye." She spent the next hour crying in her bed. When her tear ducts protested, and her wailing turned into a hacking cough that made her gag, she had enough. She picked up a stack of presents and marched out of the common room to make her way to the dungeons.

Her knees got weaker the closer she got to his rooms, and she muttered to herself as she forced her feet to walk faster. She knocked on his door with one perfunctory, almost angry, knock.

Severus walked to his door and his shoulders hunched automatically as he prepared himself for the cold wind that would hit him as soon as he opened the door. When he saw Hermione, his entire body relaxed, not even feeling the cold. The joy he felt at seeing her outweighed the icy draught.

"Mer… Christmas," she choked out and didn't look at him as she held out some presents.

"For me?" he asked surprised and saw her nod woodenly.

He was worried by her behaviour but took the presents from her only to see her dart away as soon as they left her hands.

"Miss Granger," he called alarmed and stepped fully into the corridor. "I… I have hot chocolate," he said, feeling like a teenaged amateur.

"If you want to… end things," she rasped, "I don't want hear it over hot chocolate," she said stiffly, not turning around.

"Why would you think…? I have no intention of doing… any such… thing." Useless amateur!

Now she turned, looking at him over her shoulder. He looked sweet in his bewilderment, the presents clutched to his chest.

"You were odd this morning," she said staunchly, still expecting some sort of trap.

"That was because…"

"Ah, Miss Granger," a new voice interrupted them. "I was hoping to find you here," the Headmaster said jovially, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. The old wizard put his hand on her shoulder and turned her like a pawn on a chess board, herding her into the Potions master's quarters.

"How nice of you to invite us in, Severus," he added to the dark-haired man that gaped at the turn of events.

"Sit, sit, my dear," Dumbledore said to Hermione and pushed her into a chair as if these were his rooms.

"You made hot chocolate, Severus? How thoughtful, my boy," he exclaimed and pushed the younger man into another chair, smiling broadly at the presents still in Snape's clutches.

"These were from…" Severus began stupidly, but shut himself up before he could say Hermione's name.

The Headmaster didn't inquire any further, but turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, did you know how talkative Hogwarts house-elves can be? They report to me, naturally, and can talk for hours about everything they deem important. Have you come across that piece of information during your S.P.E.W. days?"

"I… well, yes," she said timidly. She was quite sure he was talking about the time she'd spent with Severus in the kitchens.

"And, Severus, did you forget that the Headmaster is notified of whoever enters the Teachers' bathroom?"

Severus dropped his presents, which landed on the floor with a soft thump, as he nodded slowly.

"Do either of you know about school rule number two-hundred-forty-six, paragraph four?" he asked with a mad twinkle.

Hermione looked at a dumbfounded Severus with a questioning frown, before straightening her spine with a gasp. Then she nodded to Albus with a tentative smile.

"Splendid. Does Severus know about the same rule?" the old wizard asked, looking very pleased with himself.

Hermione shrugged and heard an impatient, "No," from Snape.

"Will you enlighten your… friend, please?" The Headmaster smiled indecently at her reddening face.

She turned towards Severus, who frowned at her in consternation.

"That school rule dates back to 1836 and states that a relationship between a teacher and a student is allowed to be taken to a… carnal level, if both parties are willing and uncoerced. The student also needs to be of age to make such an arrangement legal. A formal engagement between both parties is wished for and should be announced to the Headmaster. This stipulation is not mandatory."

Hermione had quoted from memory and was sure not to have missed any relevant details.

"What excellent memory, Miss Granger," Dumbledore chuckled. "Now that we are all a little bit wiser, I'd like to say that I would be very pleased to see the two of you together more often. At breakfast to start with, I think," he announced happily and left without another word, leaving two stunned people behind.


	8. Chapter 8

"Does he stop attending his anonymous alcoholics' course during the holidays?" Hermione asked only half-jokingly once the door had closed behind the humming Headmaster.

Severus made a jerking motion with his entire body that could have been a shrug or a nervous tic. "He knows then," was all he said.

"It certainly sounded like it, unless he was under the influence and was jabbering nonsense," Hermione replied, nibbling nervously on her lower lip.

Severus snorted weakly and filled their mugs with the hot chocolate he had prepared. He handed her one mug and drank deeply from his own.

"Was it just my imagination, or did he actually give us his blessing?" he asked, feeling very much beside himself.

"It sounded as if he approved," Hermione said with a careful nod.

Silence reigned as they tried to make sense out of Dumbledore's behaviour.

"Why were you acting so odd during breakfast?" Hermione interrupted their awkward musings, trying to ban the word 'engagement' from her mind.

"Because of this," he answered quickly, grasping to the change of topic like a lifeline. He got up and retrieved something from a cupboard in the corner. He came back with a small box, wrapped more or less elegantly with dark-green paper, and handed it to her with some reluctance.

"You were nervous over giving me a present?" she clarified, and saw him pinch his nose as he nodded.

It calmed her instantly, knowing that he had been merely insecure over his chosen gift and not about to dump her.

"Why, is it something naughty?" she asked with a grin that he had never thought he'd see on the usually prim girl. He felt his left eyelid twitch in mild shock, and stammered a wobbly, "No."

Hermione felt a warm rush of affection for this man surge through her, and almost forgot to open her present in her giddiness. When Severus kept staring at it with a frown, she hastily ripped into it.

She saw black leather, but the item was folded, so she couldn't tell what it was. She peeled it out of the package and held two leather gloves, made from the finest material and wonderfully soft on the inside. She looked up at him with a pleased smile before slipping them on. They fit perfectly.

"Thank you, they're lovely," she gushed sincerely and got up to kiss him, hoping for the insecure frown to vanish from his features. She didn't return to her own chair and sat down next to him on the sofa.

"You only seem to own accessories made from wool, which really does nothing to keep your fingers warm," he explained gruffly, gesturing hesitantly with his hands. He never had to buy personal presents for anyone, as Albus and Minerva always received the same each year: an alcoholic beverage of some description. He had spent ages trying to find something that would please Hermione, and had been fretting over her reaction ever since.

"I like them," she told him again with another kiss, and finally saw him relax. "Open yours," she reminded him and lovingly wiped the excess saliva from his mouth.

He picked up his first present and opened it methodically, trying not to rip the paper. When he had it off he even folded it meticulously, only to throw the neat little item into the flames. He looked nonplussed at Hermione's disbelieving laugh.

"Open it," she said, still chortling.

He did and found some dark blue fabric. "A jumper?"

"Just take it out, Severus," she retorted, feeling decidedly odd to be using his given name, no matter how natural kissing him felt.

It turned out to be a fleece blanket, and he kept running his fingers over the soft and thick fabric, not seeing Hermione's indulgent and pleased smile.

"I didn't know if you had one. But one can never have enough blankets, I thought."

"It's perfect," he assured her and pulled her to him before covering them with his new blanket.

Hermione snuggled against him, watching as he Levitated something into the fire. It was his old blanket, and she could see how thin it was, and how many holes it had.

"You don't need to throw it away," she said softly, but he placed it into the fire without hesitation.

Then she handed him the other present and held it up to him with with a grin.

He opened that too, still somewhat shocked to receive gifts from anyone besides Albus and Minerva.

"As requested," Hermione laughed as he held up a knitted black hat with a big green snake on the front and a pair of socks.

Severus chortled and took his boots off to pull the new socks over his feet. The new black hat he put onto the coffee table, not wanting to make a fool of himself by trying it on in front of her.

"It looks better than what you made for yourself," he noted without any malice.

"Yes, well, it took me four attempts before it looked decent enough for a present," she admitted, her cheeks a little flushed from mild embarrassment and pleasure.

"Thank you," he said sincerely and studied her delicate features. She smiled and copied him. Both were surprisingly timid, despite their previous kisses and the naked encounter in the bath. "I shall have to express my gratitude to your mother, I presume. The socks are quite nice."

"I shall tell her in a letter," she reassured him. "No need to do it yourself."

He nodded gratefully and stroked her forearm with a gentleness that surprised even him, closing his eyes when she leaned forward to press her lips to his. After Albus' heartening words, they felt free without the fear of castigation, or even worse, ramifications, about their… relationship.

The kisses turned wanton, and their moans got lusty and needy. Blindly, he pulled her small body in his lap, grinding and thrusting against her, as he devoured her with his mouth.

His large hands roamed restlessly over her back, alternating between squeezing her supple arse and tangling his fingers in her hair. She smelled and felt delicious, making him want to climb inside her if it were possible.

Hermione was equally affected and heartened by his neediness. Her hands didn't roam as frantically as his, but dug into various of his body parts as her tension coiled and her tummy tingled with a molten heat that made her pant.

He would probably sport a few bruises later, but he wasn't complaining.

Severus broke their kiss for a moment, gasping like a winded dog, his eyes wide and his hair wild. She looked equally dishevelled and waited for his next action. He looked into her eyes as his right hand curled itself around her breast. Her breath stuttered as she fought to keep her eyes open.

It was his way to silently ask for permission to take this to a higher level, and he took her moan as such. Greedy and speedy hands found their way under the layers of clothing she wore, to claim a breast with a hearty grope. Simultaneous groans echoed off his chamber walls, and he could not hold himself back any longer.

Using both hands, he peeled the unhelpful clothes away to uncover her ample bosom. He had lusted after those globes and every other part of her since holding her naked body against his in the pool. Now he had the chance to discover every inch of her and delve into every crevasse he could find.

Hermione copied him and undid the many buttons that hid his slender frame from the world. He wore less than her, and she had her, for once, warm hands on his chest sooner than she thought. She had an unhealthy fascination with nipples, and as soon as one came into view, she hastily pushed his still working fingers from her to seize a perfect pebble with her lips and teeth.

His loud exclamation of surprise and pleasure sent tingles of arousal to her core, and she rocked on the hardness under her, searching for much needed friction. While she suckled on him, she freed herself of her clothes as quickly as possible and felt for his hand to place it on her tit again.

He pinched the soft flesh before pushing her off of him. She looked dumbfounded and saw him smirk.

"Clothes off, or we will never get any further," he explained, his hands undoing his trousers as he spoke.

Hermione smiled and wriggled out of her clothes. Both watched the other as more and more flesh was revealed, goose bumps covering the weirdest places.

At last, they stood naked, and their eyes roamed over every expanse of skin. Severus was the first to move and picked her up to get closer to the fireplace. He deposited her on the thick rug in front of the crackling fire, and knelt next to her.

"I'm afraid this will be… erm…" He grimaced in acute embarrassment, not able to say the words that would probably unman him.

"Shorter than I'd like?" Hermione guessed softly, a tiny smirk gracing her lips.

Severus felt the heat rise in his cheeks, but didn't deny anything. "I prefer the word 'quicker'. No need to emasculate me further," he grumbled.

She couldn't help but laugh as she realised he was worried about the size of the appendage between his thighs, even though he really had nothing to fear in that regard.

"_That_ fear in unwarranted, I assure you," she whispered, wrapping her hand tightly around the bobbing piece of hard flesh that pointed straight at her.

He almost choked on an involuntary wheezy gasp, and she smiled in satisfaction.

"Don't worry. We'll make the most of it," she said softly, motioning him to lie down. When he was flat on his back, she climbed atop of him, seeing his anticipatory smirk.

Unbeknownst to him, she had no intentions of riding him, and climbed up his wiry body to boldly straddle his face, laughing at his shocked eyes that peered up at her from between her thighs.

"If you do this right you can be as quick as you like," she told him playfully, and he snorted at her boldness before letting his tongue sneak out to tickle her clit.

"Ah… good," she breathed, her smile replaced by a slack look of extreme pleasure.

She tasted lovely, and he worked his magic between her nether lips, trying to cushion her reflexive grinding on his chin by supporting her with both arms.

"Gently," he admonished, when she almost broke his nose with a particularly enthusiastic twitch.

"Sorr- - ryyyyyy," she squealed as she came, her arse bouncing helplessly against him.

He bit her clit and smirked with manly satisfaction when she keened even higher. He was glad he wasn't claustrophobic when her thighs imprisoned his head with an iron pressure.

After a few calming gulps, she awkwardly slid off of him with a sated smile and no feeling in her legs.

"That was absolutely…" She got no further as she got hauled up on all fours and was entered without any warning. She hardly had anytime to get accustomed to his considerable girth, but she didn't mind as his entry was far from painful. Besides, his wonderful groan made up for any lack of gentleness.

After merely five seconds of agonising stillness in which he fought the all too pleasant tingles in his lower spine, he spoke. "It was what?" he panted as he began to thrust with an almost savage pace, making her knees slide across the rug by the hearth.

"Brilliant," she answered in a rush, her voice breathless. Her moans were punctuated with each deep stroke of his long cock.

"Spread your…" he began and mewled. "Please, spread…" He sounded a little miserable.

"Just say… it," she gasped, rocking back into his thrusts.

"Your bum cheeks," he pressed out oddly formal. "Spread them!"

She had no problem with that. Despite her almost anti-social behaviour, she was far from being a prude or shrinking violet when it came to sex. She took her jiggling flesh into her hands and pulled it apart, making her pucker hole gape a little.

"Gods, yes," was his hissed reaction to the sight, and he slipped out, ignoring her disappointed mew of loss. She laughed throatily when his tongue did a broad swipe across the pink rosette, swirling in the most delicious way.

"You could…" she offered and almost choked on a gasp as he explored the orifice with his tongue.

"Another time," he proposed urgently, once his tongue was free, and kissed her rump before sliding into her pussy once more, her opening impossibly slick and hot.

"My little furnace," he growled as he pumped into her like a man possessed, revelling in her welcoming heat. All shyness was forgotten as he basked in ultimate pleasure.

His thrusts became erratic all too soon, and Hermione felt a little disappointed as she noticed the loss of rhythm. She tried to play with herself to bring herself over the edge one more time, but he came with a hoarse shout before she reached the pinnacle.

He slumped forward in bliss, resting his dead weight on her smaller body, embracing her in a strong hug. His ribcage rose and sank with each exhausted wheeze his overtaxed lungs produced.

"You sound close to a heart attack," Hermione said in a strained voice. He was extremely heavy for someone so thin, but it felt good nonetheless.

"I might be," he confessed breathlessly, getting a little worried by the black spots in his vision. He slid off of her, not wanting to bury her should he actually collapse. She cradled his head as she sidled up next to him, pressing her body against his sweaty one.

"Accio blanket," she called and then they were covered by his new fleece blanket. "Out of practise, dear?" she teased with a familiarity that felt so utterly right.

"Yes," he answered before his brain caught up with his words. He frowned. That's why he never stayed after a coupling: post-coital bliss loosened his tongue.

"How long?" she whispered, stroking his neck.

He was silent for a long time and studied the witch in his arms. "Five years," he admitted. He wanted to ask her the same question after noticing she hadn't been a virgin, but was afraid of what he might hear.

She watched his face and the different emotions that passed over it. She thought she knew what he was thinking. "One year for me," she admitted.

"Not Weasley?" It was a question and a plea in one.

"No, never him." She chuckled. "A Muggle boy from my neighbourhood."

"Only him, then?" he wanted to know, hoping not to sound too possessive already.

"Yes," she admitted freely. "But not just once. We used the summer holidays to explore as much as we could together."

"Hmm," was all he dared to reply. He would hardly voice his worry that she might have much more sexual experience than him. He might have had a few more partners, but those encounters had been too quick to be adventurous.

They spent the next minutes in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's presence and the warmth of the fire. Hermione mentally declared this as her favourite spot in his quarters, even though she hadn't even seen his bedroom.

One of her hands had been playing with the fine hairs on the small of his back, just above his buttocks, when a thought occurred to her. She broke the silence, waking up a snoozing Severus in the process, who had placed one hand gently on her delicate throat while he rested.

"Does Dumbledore really expect us to appear at breakfast hand-in-hand, or something like that?"

"I'm not giving the old voyeur a show," he grumbled, before silencing her with a gentle kiss. His hand remained on her throat, her reassuring pulse steady under his palm, as he revelled in the astonishing feeling of safety his young lover cocooned him in.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Albus twinkled insanely as Severus entered the Great Hall with Hermione. The other teachers also watched, but were a little less obvious in their perusal.

Minerva made a sound reminiscent of a proud mother hen when Severus pulled out the chair for Hermione. Hermione thanked him with exact politeness, receiving an annoyed nod in return, and then both ignored McGonagall and every one else around them.

They did not give each other secret smiles, they didn't play footsie under the table and they spoke little. There were no 'accidental' shoulder rubs, no sidelong glances. In short: they gave no sign to the nature of their relationship.

Soon, Albus' twinkle dimmed and he frowned at them. McGonagall looked equally nonplussed and gave the Headmaster questioning glances. The other teachers had started to whisper.

The two other students staying over the holidays were well aware of the changed atmosphere that morning but had no idea what had the teachers so excited. They did notice the many glances Snape and Hermione Granger garnered but could not ascertain why. The two boys left the table early, not comfortable with the hushed talks and the awkward silences in between.

As soon as they had gone, Severus relaxed marginally and enjoyed the last bites of his hearty breakfast. He sipped his coffee while Hermione refilled her plate. Minerva noticed the amount of food they both had eaten and couldn't hold back anymore.

"You are eating a lot, Hermione. Have you had an active night?" The innuendo in her voice was clear.

Severus stayed calm and waited for the answer of his young lover.

"Why yes, Professor. I have read the most interesting books," she gushed and launched into a detailed accounting of the Arithmancy books she had supposedly read.

Minerva was disgruntled, and so were many others. Severus laughed mentally.

Hermione finished her breakfast and patted her tummy with a satisfied smile.

"That was good, wasn't it, Professor?" she addressed the black-haired man next to her.

"It is the traditional Christmas fare, Miss Granger," he drawled unimpressed, and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

He stood and pulled her chair out again. She thanked him ever so politely and together they made their way out of the Hall, talking about nothing more interesting than food. Every eye was on them as they walked with a foot of space between them, looking just like teacher and student.

When they were a few feet from the door they deliberately sidled closer and grinned at each other. Minerva's shriek was the last thing they heard before they vanished outside.

"Did you see that?" the Transfiguration professor said loudly. "He had his hand on her bottom. I saw it clearly! You were right, Albus." Her joy was dimmed a little by just the tiniest hint of jealousy. "Lucky sod," she grumbled, garnering quite a few equally jealous nods from her colleagues, all of whom were singles.

Albus' relieved chuckle was drowned out by the multitude of voices discussing what they had just seen.

xxx

They were hardly seen for the remainder of the holidays, having turned his quarters into their love nest. Severus regularly flinched when Hermione used that word to describe his rooms, but he loved having her down there all to himself.

They were mostly naked or wearing their bathrobes, spending their time near the fire place for seemingly endless bouts of sex and languorous feasts in between. Occasionally, they went outside for a quiet walk around the lake or through the forest when the first snow fell. They even followed an invitation they had received from the Headmaster to join the rest of the faculty for a meal in the Three Broomsticks.

As before, they turned up together but remained professional, if friendly, throughout the evening. Severus disliked public displays of affection and batting eye-lashes, and Hermione wasn't one to cling to a man, or wanting to twirl her tongue around his for everyone to see. She did stroke his thigh once, though, when she noticed his thinning patience when his colleagues made one too many insinuations and sly remarks.

They left earlier than the others, having to listen to Minerva's brogue wishing them a lovely evening, her voice reeking of innuendo. They walked next to each other, not even holding hands until they reached the dungeons.

This was their last evening before the students returned from their holidays. They wanted to make the most of their time, having agreed to forego any further meetings to avoid ridicule, possible disgust and hateful comments by the students. It would be better, they had decided.

Hermione was already stretched out on what she had dubbed _her _rug, when Severus returned blessedly unclothed from the bathroom. He grinned in anticipation, and got on all fours, looming over her petite body, his thighs on either side of her. He lowered his head to nip at her breast when she stopped him, holding him in place. He looked at her in silent enquiry.

"Don't move," she told him and slid down, squeezing herself through the gap in his legs, until her head was level with his groin.

Severus felt a little discomfited on all fours now, feeling like a dog. He had no idea what she planned, but seeing her lie under him, gazing up at his erect cock, was erotic, yet he felt oddly shy again.

He watched her stroke his manhood gently. Okay, he could deal with that. He wasn't prepared when she lifted her head and wrapped her arms around his lower back, holding herself up to suck his dick into her warm mouth.

"This is…" He couldn't finish as he instinctively pushed into the wet cavern, while she expertly caressed his sensitive flesh with her lips and tongue. It was exquisite, and she encouraged his thrusts as she bobbed up and down.

He thought that this would be how a randy canine would feel during coitus with a delicious-smelling bitch as he bucked into her, still on all fours. "Deeper, deeper," he groaned and held himself up with only one arm to pull her head closer with the other. "Yesss."

He happily thrust away, not too bothered about the occasional sounds of her gagging. She would put an end to things if she got too uncomfortable, he had found out. As she didn't, he dared to press her onto the floor with his loins, bracing himself on his forearms as he thrust against her urgently but with a modicum of care. The head of his penis was reaching the depths of her throat, which spasmed deliciously with each gag from her.

He stopped when she pushed against him, and rose to look at her flushed face. She had tears in her eyes and thick strings of saliva coated her chin and his cock. She was panting but gave him a smile, licking the slit in his glans.

He could have wept with joy when she pulled him down again, swallowing all that he had. He hardly pulled out of her mouth before thrusting back deeply and quickly, hoping he could finish in her mouth. He was so close when she pushed him away again. He yelped undignified, as his balls felt fit to burst and were uncomfortably heavy.

"Off, you selfish prick," she ordered with a laugh, and turned to present her rump to the wizard. When she spread her arse cheeks to run a moist finger around her fundament, he lost it.

Roughly, he pushed her hand away and spat against the tempting orifice with precision. It would have to do for lubrication, he thought, and aligned his weepy cock with her anus.

"Unhhhh, yes, yes, yes…" she garbled as the thick head squeezed past the tight ring of muscles and safely lodged itself inside. "Deeper, deeper," she urged shamelessly, using his earlier words.

He was happy to oblige. Gritting his teeth, he pressed in further, rocking his way inside until his pubes tickled her arse crack.

Hermione's hands mangled the pillow under her head as Severus began to impale her on his long shaft with repetitive strokes. One of her hands darted down between her legs to stimulate her needy clit.

"Oh gods, yes," she screeched, her voice rising from an erotically deep baritone to a high soprano during her short exclamation.

Severus had no words left, his body in a mindless pursuit of bliss. He would have had trouble stopping fucking her had she asked him to. Thankfully, she didn't, and he continued with his brutal looking thrusts. She didn't complain, in fact, quite the opposite. Her moans, cries and near sobs only spurned him on. His own guttural grunts mirrored her lust.

His grip on her hips tightened as he approached his orgasm, a signal she had learned to decipher early on.

"Bite me," she pleaded, her voice cracking under the strain. He just about heard her voice over the roaring in his ears. He leaned forward and eyed her shoulder. It was perfect to sink one's teeth into. Without any hesitation, he brought his mouth down sharply and sank his uneven teeth into the soft tissue.

She came then, and clenched around his cock like a vice, making it almost difficult to thrust. One more firm shove against her bouncing arse and he shot his load into her, drowning out his cry by biting down deeper. She twitched from the pain, but didn't reprimand him.

He collapsed on top of her, as was his wont, and this time he managed to force her flat on her belly. Her arms gave out, and she struggled to breathe. "Off," she rasped out and he obliged unwillingly. She made such a lovely resting place.

Their ragged breaths and the crackling of the fire were the only sounds in the room for a long time. He had done most of the work, yet Hermione took an equal amount of time to calm her breathing and her heart rate. It was a very satisfying thing to witness.

"I'm quite tempted to Obliviate myself and then redo the whole thing. It was absolutely stunning," she told him after a while and heard him hum in agreement.

"Do you think the Headmaster would stop his infernal twinkling if he knew what goes on behind closed doors?" she went on.

"This will never leave these quarters," he said sternly, even though the idea of shocking the old man sounded very appealing.

"Of course, love," she reassured him and gave him a sweet kiss before closing her eyes for a well-earned nap.

He watched her for a long moment until her soft snores met his ears. "Love," he whispered reverently, testing the feel of the word on his tongue, safe in the knowledge that she hadn't heard him.


	10. Chapter 10

The holidays were over, and the students returned. Hermione waited outside to watch the hordes of children make their way up to the castle. It was rather unsettling. In the past short week she had come to feel as if the castle belonged only to her and Severus, like their private mansion.

Snow still covered the ground, and snowballs were flying everywhere. She spotted Harry, Ron and Ginny. They didn't even seem to notice her. She had almost hoped that they wanted to reconcile, but now she realised how foolish that wish had been. She made to walk away when a hard snowball, that was more ice than snow, hit her hard on the temple.

She swayed and finally dropped face first into the snow, the coldness numbing her face in seconds. It took her a moment to get her bearings and look up at the laughter around her. Harry and Ron were among the many spectators, standing near a laughing Malfoy. How nice to see the arch enemies stand next to each other over her humiliation, she thought sarcastically.

They stopped when they noticed the blood trickling down the side of her face, but none of them stepped forward to help. Neville was the first to come over to help her up. She mumbled a thanks when he suddenly let go of her. She sank back onto her knees without the support and raised disbelieving and hurt eyes up to him, only to see him stare into another direction.

She followed his gaze and saw Severus stalk towards them with a heavy frown on his face. Neville scuttled away. The imposing man helped her to her feet, noticing quickly that the dangerously swaying girl wouldn't be able to walk anywhere. To everyone's shock, the hateful teacher suddenly picked the Gryffindor girl up gently and held her against him. She tried hard not to give her rescuer a relieved and insipid smile. She gratefully sank against his chest and closed her eyes, hoping to stop the spinning and nausea.

"Who did this?" Snape barked at the students still gawking at the scene.

Harry, Ron and Malfoy looked at each other, but neither pointed an accusing finger. They really had no clue as to whose fault it was. Neville stepped forwards bravely and said in a clear voice: "It was Ginny Weasley."

The girl in question blushed hotly, and shot an angry look the boy who had ratted her out. Her anger gave her away, that and the fact that she didn't even try to deny it.

"It's not my fault she walks through here when everyone is throwing snowballs," the youngest Weasley child defended herself.

"Detention, Weasley," Severus growled. "For a month," he added maliciously. "And fifty points from your deplorable house." Outraged mumblings met those words, and he shouted over the defiant students.

"One point to the same dratted house, for the actual loyalty you are supposed to be famous for." He looked at Neville who gave him a small nod, despite the chalky-white face he sported over being addressed by the fearsome man.

"Get inside before I change my mind and pelt the lot of you with the hardest snowballs I can produce." Snape's threat made even the Slytherins take a step backwards.

Ron jogged away, leaving Harry and Ginny behind.

Severus looked down at the now barely conscious Hermione and carried her limp body through the parting sea of students to the infirmary. He felt hot with rage and envisioned the young red-headed Weasley impaled by a gigantic icicle that just happened to fall on her out of nowhere.

He was quivering with fury, and only the burden in his arms stopped him from taking the mean girl to task personally.

"Poppy," he growled in a low voice and waited for the Nurse to appear before he relinquished the precious young woman in his arms. The scans were done quickly, and he was reassured that the damage was minimal, and she would be up and running in less than an hour.

He nodded and sat down in a chair, not caring that he would miss the feast. Poppy was aware, as well as the rest of the staff, about the actual connection between the teacher and the top student. She was one of the few who didn't tease him about it and let him sit beside his partner for as long as he wanted.

"Who was it?" were Hermione's first words when the hazy feeling and the blurry vision faded.

"I do not know," he answered, stroking her thigh. He thought it would only upset her more if she found out about her wilful attacker.

"Why do I have the feeling that that's not true?" she asked with a smile that looked brittle and made him clench his teeth in renewed anger. "You can tell me, Severus. I'm bound to find out anyway." Now she was stroking his hand to comfort him, he noticed incredulously, and forced himself to lose some of the tension that had crept up his spine.

"Weasley," he admitted when her amber met his, portraying a calm he didn't understand.

"Ron?"

"No, the girl," he grumbled.

"Hm, didn't think she hated me that much," she said with a frown, and after a little pause she just shook her head and smiled at him, the incident seemingly forgotten.

"How can you be so damn calm? The malicious girl attacked you with intention and you don't seem to give a damn. You used to be a fighter, avenging wrongs and showing everyone not to cross you. And now… now you just smile all day long," he ranted loudly, not understanding her in the least. He was filled with murderous thoughts, and she didn't care.

He had jumped off his chair during his verbal release of tension and was pacing the length of the infirmary. He was so engrossed that he didn't even notice the questioning look from Poppy or the wordless conversation the two women held.

He came to a stop by Hermione's bed again and just stared at her, uttering one word: "Why?"

"Because I've got you."

That didn't make any sense to him. "I don't understand," he admitted. "Do you want me to take revenge in your stead?" he tried.

She chuckled. "No, even though it would be interesting."

"Don't joke about this!" he barked.

"Stop shouting and come here, please," she scolded gently and patted the bed. Ungracefully, he sat. "With you in my life, I don't care what the children play at. It seems utterly insignificant, and I won't lower myself to their level and pay them back for their prank, no matter how spiteful it was."

He watched her, his frown never lessening, until he bent forward to press a harsh kiss to her lips. It was short and not an overture for more to come. He was just overwhelmed by what he felt for her, mingled with relief over not seeing her more damaged.

"Allow _me_ to lower myself to their level," he said, and she laughed a brilliant tinkling laugh that lightened his spirits a little.

"Just don't hurt her," she said bossily. "And make sure she can't get you into trouble."

"You are talking to a master of subterfuge and stealth, my dear," he said wickedly, making her a little worried for anyone that got in his path.

"Nothing as bad as murder or maiming, I hope," she tested.

"How gaudy," he said with a playful smirk and leaned back to plan a torturous next month for Weasley's detention. Hermione shook her head at the impossible man and closed her eyes for a little rest.

Xxxx

The next month was certainly interesting, and seeing Ginny return from detention each night in tears was a nice feeling. Hermione never rubbed it in, but quietly enjoyed the sobs and various minor injuries the youngest Weasley brought back on a daily basis. The older girl hadn't meant to find pleasure in seeing Ginny suffer, but had lost her temper after being blamed by the youngest Weasley for the detentions she had to serve.

"How silly of me to accidentally get hit by an ice ball. What was I thinking?" Hermione had shot back.

Harry had been his usual unreasonable self and butted into the conversation. "Oh, come on, Hermione. You made it look worse than it was."

"Of course, I was gushing blood to make her look bad. You really are a prat, Harry Potter. You deserve to be saddled with a future harridan like Ginny," she had said and left the fuming couple behind.

McGonagall had not even tried to talk about the unfairness of the detentions that Ginny had reported, but supported her younger colleague in his decision. The Gryffindor Head-of-House had learned not to blindly trust each Gryffindor, like she had done with the Marauders. She developed a dislike for Ginny Weasley and ignored each and every complaint about the treatment from Severus, thinking the girl deserved every blister and every scrape for wilfully harming a fellow student.

No matter how deserved Ginny's detentions were, the constant death glares from the new Golden Trio were exhausting. Hermione longed to see Severus, wishing she could simply forget her worries while she pressed her face against his robes to inhale his scent.

But it wasn't to be. They had decided not to jeopardise her remaining months at Hogwarts and make her susceptible to ridicule. Their relationship was perfectly legal, but not everyone would look at the couple with the open acceptance the staff had displayed. The students could make Hermione's life a living hell, and so the two of them pretended to be strangers.

She threw sad glances at him when she saw him on his rounds or in the library. He never looked at her very long and glared evilly as he turned his back on her.

He wished to nibble on her slender neck or take her roughly behind the haunted suits of armour in the third corridor, but knew he couldn't. He tried to stay away from her to avoid temptation, and grew more and more irritated by her absence. He knew he was lonely and hated that fact; he blamed her for evoking such feelings then promptly hated himself for daring to make her responsible. It was vicious circle of blame, self-blame, fierce lust, frustration and sheer desperation.

When she knocked on the door to his quarters one night, he was about to shout at her for coming there and making it even harder for him to control himself. Just when he was about to rant, she checked the corridor before giving him a shove, making him stumble backwards.

"What the hell, woman?" he barked and watched as she magically sealed the door and put some wards up. He had a hopeful inkling as to what she came there for but didn't dare voice his thoughts.

"I've missed you. I can't believe I agreed to the stupid plan to avoid you for the rest of the school year." Hermione was breathless already, her voice husky and urgent.

Without any further ado, she latched onto him, her lips finding his in a searing kiss. As nice as kissing was, they both needed more. They lost sight of who was removing whose clothes; fabric got ripped and strewn haphazardly across the floor.

"The bed for once?" she asked and nipped his bottom lip in her eagerness to feel him.

He grunted harshly in agreement and pulled her along into his bedroom. She didn't stop to look at the décor, and he didn't give her the tour. He pushed, she bounced. He pounced, she embraced him. He pushed inside, she tightened around him in welcome.

It was by far the most furious fucking they had so far, and it took mere minutes to find completion. To his chagrin, he almost came after only a few strokes and had to reign himself in to not be the most disappointing lover she ever had. When he came, his balls gifted her with an immense amount of cum, which dripped out while they were still joined, making their loins sticky. Neither complained.

"I wish I could do it again," he lamented and rotated his groin lazily, his still semi-hard shaft making it quite pleasurable for her. She purred against him, and he smiled at the sound.

He looked down at her with a lazy smirk before stroking her hair, a simple action that still felt alien to him. He was no stranger to physical pleasure, but only those of a carnal nature. Little signs of affection did not come easily. With her, he dared to follow his instincts and let his hands or lips wander when he felt like it. So far, she had not criticised his attempts at expressing his… fondness for her.

Yes, he was completely and utterly… fond of her.

Good God, man. Broaden your vocabulary!


	11. Chapter 11

They spent the night in his bed, talking about how miserable they'd been, or merely irritated, as he called it. They fell asleep in each other's arms, basking in the warmth they gave each other. What was better than your lover's hot skin against yours on a cold night?

Severus woke up at five in the morning, realising that his head was resting on her charmingly soft and warm tummy, and that his entire body was covered by the thick duvet. Reluctantly, he let go of his personal hot water bottle, and made to stretch out beside her. Changing his mind, he pressed himself against her again, giddy about having the chance of another round.

His nose teased her hardening nipple, while his hand sought out his main goal. He was surprised how easily her legs opened with a little coaxing, and he ran his eager fingers along her opening, revelling in the heat that radiated from that wonderful orifice. He wanted to hear her wake with an aroused groan.

She did indeed wake with a gasp as three fingers invaded her not quite prepared body.

"Ouch, stop that," she muttered sleepily, and wriggled in discomfort. "I need to pee."

He grinned wickedly and saw her frown in reaction.

"Severus!" she warned and squealed in outrage when her arms were suddenly bound to the posts of his bed.

"I really need to pee," she growled, not looking very menacing with her tousled hair and the creases the pillow had left on her cheek.

He just smirked and cast an impervious charm on the bed linen, before crawling between her legs.

"You perverted little bugger," she scolded, her mien softening as his tongue tickled her clit before lapping at her with happy little moans until her increasing moisture mingled with his saliva. Then he folded her in half, her knees around her ears.

He groaned when he saw her pink centre displayed so openly and leaned over her, teasing both of them by running the head of his cock along her opening until she squirmed with need.

"Hurry up, Severus, or I'll pee all over you."

"I can live with that," he said, not impressed by her attempt to persuade him to go faster. He even pressed down on her bladder and enjoyed the small trickle of urine that she couldn't hold back. She was blushing a deep shade of red, and he tried to kiss her discomfort away.

"It's only natural," he tried to reason, quite liking his newly discovered fetish.

"So is defecating, but I won't be pooing in your bed any time soon," she shrieked, tears in her eyes. He took pity and released her bonds.

"Go pee, but hurry back."

"No, just hurry, please," she countered and pulled on him, positioning him by her entrance. Destroying the mood with a potty break was suddenly far from her mind.

He didn't give her another chance to change her mind and plunged in, putting as much pressure on her bladder as was possible. She knew what he was doing.

"Severus," she drawled threateningly, caught between amusement over his tenacity and his attempt at looking innocent.

He changed tactics. "Just a few drops," he wheedled, close to begging shamelessly.

"Just shag me and see what'll happen," she snapped and thrust her pelvis against him, asking for a faster rhythm. She was secretly hoping to finish well before she could embarrass herself.

He obliged her wish for a more speed, but followed his own agenda by pressing on her bladder with one hand.

"Oh shit," she said, the urge to pee getting stronger every second. She clenched her muscles, which made him groan in ecstasy. His hand pressed down further rhythmically, and she could not peel it off.

Her orgasm was building but she was almost afraid of it, fearing emptying her bladder completely. A few drops she could live with, but to make a puddle was a different thing altogether.

She could not fight her orgasm, and was twitching around him, howling when she felt wetness spread underneath her. She got herself under control fairly quickly, but by that time she had released more than a few drops.

"Yes, my sweet," he crooned, adding his spunk to the mixture of fluids between them. It felt so heavenly warm around him, and he pulled out slowly once he could see straight. Hermione was still out of breath, and he pressed a few fingers against her bladder, making the unsuspecting witch lash out at him. He didn't mind and watched more liquid trickle out of her. Carefully, he pinned her down to lap at her, tasting urine for the first time in his life. He had never even wished to do anything similar, but he wanted to taste everything she had to offer.

It wasn't yummy as such, but it tasted of her, just as her female juices tasted purely of her and were desirable because of it.

"Enough now, Severus. Come on, clean up the mess I made."

He looked at her, finding her frown in embarrassment, and Vanished the tiny yellow puddle with a wave of his wand.

They walked to the bathroom and Severus filled the tub while Hermione snatched her toothbrush before sitting on the toilet to relief herself. She watched a solemn looking Severus kneel on the tiles before her to snake a hand under her, waiting for the golden shower. He didn't look away from her eyes and was relieved when she allowed the warm liquid to run over his waiting hand. He closed his eyes and coated his digits, rubbing his palm across her labia.

"It feels good," he stated.

Hermione swallowed the toothpaste and removed the brush from her mouth before speaking.

"I think I can live with that. It's nice to see your face when you revel in something." Peeing on him didn't turn her on, but seeing his awed expression certainly did.

They had reached an accord, and after washing his hand he picked her up to trade places with her. She climbed into the tub while he relieved himself. Avidly, she watched the arc his urine made as it fell into the toilet bowl. She might come to like water games, after all.

Xxx

The rest of the year passed uneventfully. They tried to be as covert about themselves as possible, but they both learned that it was sheer torture to avoid each other for too long. They met every two weeks if their schedules allowed it, to spend some much needed time together.

They talked, they fucked with never dwindling frenzied intensity, and they cuddled for hours. They cooked, baked, read books and occasionally played some card games. He craved her more and more and never got enough of her. It was incredibly hard for him to play the hateful teacher during class. He didn't have to be cruel to her, and he wasn't, but he had to stop himself from gazing at her at her like a moron in love. The only possible way not to give himself away was to snipe and harass.

Time passed slowly, and the N.E. approached. He wanted the year to end, see the dunderheads leave and enjoy time with Hermione, away from prying eyes. She often came to study in his quarters, assured that he wouldn't interrupt her until she was done. He didn't even insist on ploughing into her every time they met; being with her was good enough. Fucking her was just the icing on the cake.

No one missed her presence, a fact she didn't overly mind anymore. One time, though, Harry had asked her for a study plan to cram as much knowledge in as possible three weeks before the exams. She had given him a cold glare and had ignored him. How dare he? He had marched off, mumbling unsavoury things under his breath.

Ginny was still suffering from various nightmares about the detentions she had had with Snape. Hermione overheard her telling Harry and Ron that she once had to clean Mrs Norris' cat toilet with an old toothbrush. The worst bit was not the signs of the cat's chronic diarrhoea, but that the old mangy toothbrush had belonged to the Potions master himself. The redhead had gagged throughout that particular detention and had developed the habit of conjuring a new squeaky clean toothbrush every day.

Hermione was often smiling to herself about the adorable vindictiveness of her lover, and many of her impromptu kisses stemmed from her gratefulness for his unconventional defence of her.

The evening before the big exams, Hermione went to see Severus, who was surprised to see her.

"I expected you to need some quiet time," he said as he invited her into his rooms.

"It can be quiet with you," she said and fell into his arms with a sigh. He picked her up and deposited her on the couch, spooning her from behind, the fleece blanket thrown over them. It was always a little chilly in the dungeons even in late June. Severus still wore the knitted socks she had given him on Christmas.

"I am sure as I can be, with my limited knowledge about the subject, that I love you," she said into the silence and heard him swallow behind her. She wasn't worried by the lack of an answer.

He took his time before even attempting to come up with a suitable reply, choosing his words with care.

"I believe you are intelligent and mature enough to correctly identify what your heart or mind, or whatever, is telling you." It wasn't a declaration of his own feelings, but at least he hadn't discarded hers.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence," she said easily, still not ruffled by his awkward way of dealing with her revelation.

He sighed into her neck and buried his face in her hair, seeking refuge from the overwhelming need to confess what he had never dared to speak aloud in her presence. How to start? Maybe he should just speak in more general terms. He could tell her how fond he was of her. There it was again: fond. He was so much more than that.

He… he held her in high esteem. He felt tenderness and affection for her. He certainly had a weakness for her. He was devoted to her and he would worship her body and mind for as long as she let him. He felt a never ending hunger for her, a craving that could never be completely sated. He was also certain about their compatibility…

Oh, good God. He was behaving like a raving lunatic.

He tried again.

What he felt for her could be described as… possessiveness. Well, that wouldn't impress her. Maybe she would accept fascination, or reverence and even tenderness.

Urgh, who came up with those emasculating words?

Either way, he felt all those things. How to wrap them up without using the word he was so afraid of?

"Infatuation," he rasped out, every vocal chord protesting against the immature noun describing the deep feelings he had for her, not aware that he had spent almost ten minutes with his inner monologue.

She turned in his arms and kissed him softly, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, contrite about his inability to express what he felt, but she shushed him with another kiss.

"Don't feel forced to say things you don't want. Besides, you have told me in your sleep that you love me for the last three months. I only thought it fair to tell you the same." She smiled, her eyes alight with humour and her feelings for him.

Severus was in a mild catatonic state. His blabber mouth had spouted things his subconscious knew for certain, things he tried to suppress during the day. It was good to know that she felt the same, but he felt robbed. He wanted to be brave enough to utter these words while fully conscious.

"I don't care if I never hear the words from you, Severus. It's enough to feel them in your every action, in your kisses and caresses. You have no idea how much your eyes soften and light up when you look at me."

He closed his eyes as if in pain. Then he darted forward, pressing her against himself, while sealing their recent baring of feelings with a kiss that made her toes curl and his cock hunger for more.

"I do … I really do…," he tried, even as he hiked up her short summer skirt, encountering nothing but bare skin. "Gods, little slut, how I… Dammit," he hissed. The word stuck in his throat and refused to budge. Why was it so hard to say when she was awake and watching him?

He took her slowly, just watching her go from mildly aroused to a quivering mess of passion under his ministrations. He closed his eyes as he followed her into blessed relief.

His face against her neck, he took a deep breath and let the word that had pressed against his ribcage during the coupling surge out with the last spurt of semen into her welcoming body.

"Love."

He secretly delighted in the bear hug she gave him and the silent sobs that shook her chest. The drops of moisture that covered her cheeks were happy tears, and he licked them off her face.

"Love," he said again, inordinately proud of himself in that moment.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: This is it - the end of this little tale. I hope some of you enjoyed it. I just want to thank my beta, moonrevel, again for her help.

* * *

The exams were hard, but, for Hermione, more than manageable. She delighted in them, finally able to prove her worth in a test designed by the Ministry and not the teachers she had studied with for many years. She actually had to use what she had learned, and it was exciting to see where seven years of learning had brought her. Others didn't share her enthusiasm, and some even cried in distress.

Her last exam was Potions, and she greeted her teacher with a grin before confidently taking a place and waiting for the exam to begin.

Severus watched over the young adults sitting their Potions exams. They weren't many, and most of them were doing well. The students were concentrating hard on their brews, and Severus used the time to watch his beloved slice and dice with a smile that never left her face, not even when rivulets of sweat ran down her face. It was infectious, and he found himself smiling along with her. With a disbelieving roll of his eyes, he looked away from her. He would see her at night, after all.

She came as promised and was in such a good mood over her exams that she fell to her knees as soon as the door closed behind her, pulling the surprised man's cock out to suckle on it with a happy hum.

When his knees threatened to buckle, she forced him flat on his back. After magically removing his shirt and gnawing heartily on the glorious, pert buds that were his nipples, she propped his arse up with a pillow and returned to the task at hand.

"What is the pillow for?" he asked while he could still form a coherent sentence.

"You'll see," was all she said, before gently pulling his balls away from his body and laving his frantically quivering member. Severus was writhing on the floor before he knew it. When he made his typical pre-orgasm noises, she took him out from between her lips and gave him a hand job, her palm moving up and down his engorged shaft with blurring strokes.

"Let's see how far you can shoot, my love," she crooned, aiming his cock towards his head. He hardly heard her, keening loudly as he came. The first spurt of cum landed in his belly button. The second one was more impressive and landed on his chin. Hermione laughed delightedly and watched the third jet of glob land on his shoulder.

She gave his cock one last yank and watched the last pearly string land near a nipple. The rest tiredly dribbled out of him, and she lapped it up gently, pulling his foreskin over the sensitised head with care.

He opened his eyes after a long pause to regain his bearings and touched the smear he felt on his chin.

"What the hell? Was that me?"

He cursed himself for the daft question, but forgot all about it when she leaned forward to lick away the thick droplet with her tongue. She swallowed with an audible gulp, and he copied her unconsciously.

"What a fertile wizard," she crooned, and saw him blanch. She couldn't help but laugh at his comical horror. "I am using the potion, you dolt. Did you remember just now how little wizards and witches are made?"

"It has slipped my mind that I shoot potent stuff," he sniffed in mock-offence and set her off again. "And I presume that your eggs are as irritatingly eager to prove themselves as their owner," he added tartly when her laughter didn't cease. That stopped her.

"Yes, we'd make impressive offspring. Socially awkward with questionable looks, but powerful," she said wistfully, but took the seriousness of her words away by grinning at him.

"Impressive, no doubt," he said and lost himself in a fantasy of little black-haired children with amber eyes that wore nothing but black. His eyes drifted down to her stomach, and he raised his body to stoke the flat expanse of skin, gazing into her soft eyes. He did not have to voice his thoughts and she simply hugged him, smearing his cum between them.

"Not yet," he said somewhat hastily, never losing the gentle, hopeful glow in his eyes.

"No, not yet," she agreed, retrieving her wand to clean them. She never would have dared to hope that this man might not be as averse to children as he portrayed in his classes.

That night, Severus Snape was even cuddlier than normal, which Hermione simply enjoyed in silence, caressing his long fingers that seemed to be glued to her stomach.

Xxxx

The last day of school came sooner than anybody expected. All students got ready to leave the castle for the summer holidays. The seventh years said goodbye to the castle that had been their primary home for seven years. Some were glad to see the back of it, but most were sad to see the end of this important phase in their lives.

Tearful hugs and stoic handshakes could be seen everywhere. Stuff that had been borrowed was returned at the last second and many could be seen burning their school ties as a symbolic gesture. Pets were chased while others kept their cool and wandered the halls for the last time. Teachers received the occasional parting gift, and granted last minute advice to the little fledglings that were about to leave the Hogwarts nest forever.

Hermione was still in her dormitory and slowly gathered her belongings. There wasn't much to start with, and she had everything packed, while Lavender and Parvati were still arguing over the make up that could be found in every corner of the room.

"Goodbye," she called to the squabbling girls who waved with fake smiles that slipped off their faces as soon as Hermione rounded the corner. With a mental shrug, she left her room, her luggage shrunk and safely stowed away in her pocket. Crookshanks was somewhere in the castle, but that didn't matter, she thought with a smile.

She watched Ron scamper after a dropped sugar quill, only to stuff it into his mouth after getting his hands on it. He had apparently never heard of a Cleansing Charm.

Ginny was bossing Harry around. He looked ticked off and was as red in the face as his girlfriend, who was doing her best to look like the stern Weasley family monarch. The only thing missing was Molly's hips. Surely, they would come with time. With a smirk, Hermione walked past the three, who used to be her closest friends, or so she had thought.

"Goodbye," she called loudly, hoping she didn't invite a last minute clash. Ron straightened and gave a careless floppy wave. Harry nodded at her, his eyes narrowed as if looking for a trap. Ginny had not forgiven her for the snowball incident, even though the older girl was faultless. She glared at Hermione and turned back to Harry to berate him over his way of folding clothes. Hermione left them to their lives.

It was the middle of July, but the weather was atrocious. It was raining, and the sun was hiding behind a thick curtain of grey. It was cold and windy, not the ideal weather to make the long track to the train.

Despite the less than ideal conditions, most of the staff accompanied the students to the carriages that would bring them to Hogsmeade, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting. It was the departure of Harry Potter, and everyone wanted to wish him farewell.

Even Snape followed the throng of teachers, but not to wish anything to Potter, unless you counted his wish for the boy to suffer under his domineering girlfriend. The older man wished to see how Potter would react when he was faced with reality, and attempted to stand on his own legs without any guidance from Dumbledore.

Without Hermione's help, the young man's exam results were severely lacking. The same was true for the Weasley boy, who would not get into Auror training with his poor scores. Neither of them knew their results yet, and Severus smirked devilishly when he thought about their dismayed faces when they found out.

Severus trudged through the mud, not feeling the slightest crack in his good mood. He saw Hermione walk some metres in front of him, and he grinned in anticipation.

"Severus, you're scaring me with your unexplained bouts of delight, not to speak of the little ones," Minerva finally said, nodding in the direction of a few first years, who ran past them with terror in their eyes.

The usually dour man only smirked wider and ignored her, wanting to skip through puddles. He resisted the urge, not wanting to be stuffed into a straight jacket for his efforts.

He pulled his knitted hat from his pocket and placed it on his already wet hair when the cold wind threatened to cause a headache. He had often tried it on in front of his mirror until he had convinced himself that he looked suitably impressive with the head gear, and not like a complete dork.

Minerva looked at his new accessory and grinned to herself. He had always been very fickle and insecure about his clothes, and she was glad he tried something new for once, even if it was just another black item. She had no intention of making him doubtful about his choice by telling him how manly and rakish he looked, even if it would be the truth.

Everyone arrived at the station, and the students climbed aboard the train that was already there. The only ones to stay outside were the teachers and Hermione. Many students waved to their Professors once they got comfortable on the train. The first ones began to wonder about the female student that had not entered the train yet.

Harry and Ron were seated by the window and waved cheerfully at Dumbledore, who only gave them a polite nod, to their surprise. Neville was with them, and he cocked his head when Hermione caught his eye. She waved at him with a genuine smile, and he got up, only to jump off the train. He ran to her and hugged her warmly.

She held Neville for a long moment and kissed his forehead.

"Stay as you are, Neville," she whispered.

"A bumbling idiot?" he asked jokingly, earning himslef and admonishing grimace from Hermione.

"You will be a wonderful man," she assured him. "You can write or visit me anytime," she added. "I want to follow your process to utter manliness and irresistibility."

Most of the faculty had overheard their every word, and were snorting more or less loudly at the friends' banter.

Hermione's friendly laugh was infectious, and Neville sniggered boyishly. "Will do," he promised.

"Good god," Severus grumbled as he heard her offer, but was ignored.

Harry and Ron gaped when they saw the Headmaster step forwards to hug the young man and shake his hand for good measure, sending him off with a broad grin.

"Something isn't right," Ron remarked, observant as usual. He watched Hermione as she pulled out a Slytherin green hat before striding over to Snape, who took the garment and pulled it expertly over her tresses.

When the tall man moved to stand behind Hermione to put his hands demonstrably on her shoulders, Ron dropped his sugar quill, and Harry inhaled his Chocolate Frog. Ginny's enraged shout could be heard anywhere in the train and even reached the little group outside.

Severus chuckled loudly, a sinister smile forming on his thin lips. Hermione turned her head to kiss his chin and laughed along with him.

The youngest Weasley child was screaming bloody murder, gesturing and cursing wildly through the window, while an embarrassed Harry tried to get her to calm down.

"I thought Molly was scary," were Albus' resigned words, before he lifted his wand to turn the glass to the compartment Ginny sat in a deep black that made any visual contact impossible. Her insulted shrieks made everyone flinch.

"What a delightful young woman," Severus remarked disdainfully. "What a shame she will return next year." No one saw the need to argue over the fact, they all thought the same.

They heard the whistle, and then the Hogwarts Express slowly left the station, many hands waving out of the windows. Most of the staff waved as well, only Severus and Hermione didn't participate.

"The children are leaving," Hermione said quietly, amusement tingeing her voice.

"Indeed," Severus whispered and leaned forward to push his face into the riot of hair that swirled with the breeze, not caring about the occasional inquisitive looks from his colleagues.

"It's chilly. What have you got to warm me up?" she complained and turned towards her companion, no longer interested in watching the train leave the station.

"Only you'd need hot chocolate in the summer," he drawled with mock-annoyance, trying not to shiver as the wind blew through his thin summer cloak.

"Or something else entirely," she countered. "I remember that a certain someone is quite fond of leather gloves on his naked, hard…"

He didn't even let her finish, but dragged her away towards Hogwarts, her tinkling laugh sending another shiver down his spine. That woman could certainly raise his temperature with a few chosen words…

The End


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